War
by TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo
Summary: Taking place directly after 'Holden,' 'War' follows the Winchester clan farther back into the supernatural world. Facing a new villain; Delilah, is a magical mystery. Will the Winchesters be able to defeat this new enemy or will their family continue to be the focus of a brand new war?
1. Chapter 1

::Welcome back, everyone! _War_ has definitely been a work in progress; trying to figure out some of our new characters and how they interact with everyone else. It's taken me a long time to be happy with the outcome. I hope you guys like it. Let me know, leave a review. Let's head back to Winchester Ranch. Enjoy! Love and internetty hugs,

The Girl With The Dinosaur Tattoo::

...

Chapter 1

Grace breathed a heavy sigh as she tossed her keys onto the giant wooden farm table in the middle of the dining room. They skidded to a stop with a clink against the vase in the center of the table, leaving a clean trail through the drywall dust that had settled on the surface. Her husband, Dean Winchester, followed closely behind, his jade eyes almost closed in relief that they were home and that the house was still standing. Driving hard for twenty-six hours straight in order to get home as quickly as possible, both Grace and Dean Winchester were absolutely exhausted. The two exchanged looks and nodded slightly at the state of the living room: dust had settled in the corners and the walls would need to be patched. The entry way would need a new coat of paint and the hardwood floors would need to be sanded and polished again, but no matter the damage, the Winchester family was safe.

For now.

Without waiting for acknowledgement, Sabina Wells continued through the living room towards the back door, and unlocking it, she opened the door and disappeared into the darkness.

"Has she said anything to you since Holden?" Dean asked, turning towards Grace and lifting his eyebrows.

Grace shook her head. The teenager that had taken up residence with the Winchester family had lost everything she owned, including her family, over the last few weeks. On the drive back from Maine, Sabina had been silent, only speaking when directly spoken to, and even then, it was usually just a grunt or nod.

Dean nodded slowly and walked towards the stairwell.

"Go ahead and leave it," Grace muttered towards her husband as he attempted to carry the bags up the steps. "I'm too tired to put anything away. We're getting old."

Dean threw her a look and pressed his lips together, "Old," he muttered, shaking his head. "Ain't that the truth?" He rerouted towards the mudroom in the rear of the kitchen and dumped the bags from their trip to Holden, Maine, walking slowly across the hardwood, his boots echoing into the silence of the house. "Everyone's over at the Little House, I take it?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," Grace answered. "Serra's still pretty amped up."

"She awake?"

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Grace hesitated, listening for her sister. "No," she answered. "Sam is, though."

Dean turned towards the kitchen and opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, probably out of sheer habit, then turned towards the window and watched the wheat in the field between the houses dance in the breeze. The moon shone brightly down, bathing the entire area in a blue light.

Hearing his thoughts as well as if they were her own, Grace listened to her husband as he mulled over the details of the demon attack on their house and their children, just the day before. Guilt wound through both of them like snakes, knowing that they hadn't been there to protect their kids.

"They could have been killed, Gracie," Dean whispered to the window.

"But they weren't," she replied instantly. "Serra and Sam were here. Cas was here. They're all okay."

Turning slowly to face his wife, Dean shook his head slowly. "Why aren't you pissed? I mean, how are you this calm? Why aren't you ready to go to war?"

"Because we're not even supposed to be hunters anymore," Grace sighed, rubbing her face with both hands. "We got out. We were done." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and took a deep breath. "We have four kids, Dean. We can't keep doing this."

"We're never out, Grace," Dean answered, turning to lean his hips up against the counter to stare at his wife. "I know that's what you wanted. I wanted to get out, too," he took a swig of his beer and rolled his head from side to side. "I wanted out as soon as I held Lib for the first time."

Grace remained silent.

"For awhile we did," he continued; his deep voice quiet. "Longer than I ever could have hoped for, but, Gracie…there's a girl out there that has nothing left because of something a group of monsters did." Dean used the same hand that clutched the beer bottle and gestured out the window towards the barn that housed their newly acquired teenaged orphan, Sabina Wells. "And now," he continued, "now there's fucking demons attacking our kids. You can't tell me that doesn't piss you off."

"It does."

"Then why aren't you on my side of angry?"

Grace pressed her teeth together and closed her blue eyes. "I am," she finally answered. "The problem is that I wanted to keep some of our cover here. I wanted to hold on to some kind of normalcy for them. For us." She crossed the kitchen and approached Dean slowly. "And without sounding too much like The Incredible Hulk," Grace's lips pulled into a wry grin, "now we've seen what I can do when I'm angry."

Dean lifted his eyebrows slightly, returning her smile. "I know," he smiled. "Kinda turns me on."

Automatically, Grace moved closer to Dean and reached for him. Turning to set down his beer, Dean opened his arms to his wife as she curled into his chest. "I don't want to lose our kids," she whispered into his shirt.

Dean swallowed hard, staring across the room. He was silent for a long time, but finally, he took a ragged breath and sighed, "Neither do I."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Three months later

Serra tapped on the window of the Big House and waited as patiently as she could for her sister to come to the door. It was still dark, showing the early hour of the morning, and as Grace stumbled towards the door, she flicked on the back porch's light, forcing Serra and her children to squint.

"Why didn't you just send Sammy with them when the sun came up?" Grace asked grumpily.

Serendipity made a face at her sister as she handed the baby over. "Uh," she began, "because you're half angel and you have never complained about it before?"

Grace rolled her eyes as she took her niece, Charlotte. The nine-month-old grinned at her aunt and babbled as she grasped Grace's hair. Levi, Serra's three-and-a-half year old, pushed passed Grace and headed straight for the steps, not hesitating on finding his way back to a bed.

Serra ignored Grace's glance and continued as she backed her way down the back steps, "Okay, Sammy will be here around five to pick them up. I'm on a twenty-four, so, good luck."

"Thanks," Grace growled.

…

"I'm leaving, Gracie!" Dean shouted up the steps towards Grace as he grabbed his keys off the hook near the front door. "Be home about four!"

His wife's footsteps creaked from the hundred-year-old farm house's second floor as she moved out of their youngest daughter's room and into the hall. "Is it already nine?" she answered, sounding tired.

Glancing at his watch, Dean nodded, "Yeah, I mean, eight-fifty-five," he continued. "I'm picking up coffee since ours didn't start this morning."

Grace padded down the steps, clutching two infant girls as they both gripped Grace's long, blonde hair. "Wait," she breathed. "Just wait a sec. I have to redo my hair. Take someone."

"Come 'ere, Pot Roast," he grinned at one of the girls. "Come see me. Gimme some love."

"That's Charlie," Grace answered, setting their daughter on the floor as Dean took their niece from her arms. She flipped her hair over her head, bending at the waist and wrapped her hair into a bun at the top of her head.

Without missing a beat, Dean spoke. "How much longer do you think we'll have six kids?" he asked, tilting his head at Charlotte as she grinned and drooled down her front. "Do you think it'll be a lifetime thing? Can we apply for some kind of government check?"

Grace chuckled and shook her head. "I don't know," she answered, red in the face as she wrapped the hair tie around her hair. "Serra's on a twenty-four and Sam had to get to class early today, I guess." There was pounding and the sound of running feet above them, followed by a high pitched shriek and a crash. "Hey!" Grace shouted towards the steps where the older kids were playing. "Knock it off!"

"You okay?" Dean asked, putting Charlie on the floor next to Faith, staring at Grace.

Nodding, Grace tucked the renegade curls behind her ears. "Yeah," she answered. "I'm just tired. They've been amped all morning and Sabina really hasn't been any help." Nodding towards the sliding glass door, she continued, "She's been in the barn since yesterday. Haven't seen her, even for dinner."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "That's weird, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I mean," Grace glanced towards Charlie as she tried to crawl towards her legs. "She's been different since we got back."

Dean didn't have to ask to know Grace was referring to their trip to Holden, Maine, where Sabina's family and friends had been killed by the coven of witches. He nodded slowly and took a breath. "She's been alright at the shop," he replied. With a flick of blue eyes and Grace's expression, Dean knew that he was being a typical unobservant man. "Well, then she's a damn good actress."

"So was I," Grace answered, bending to pick up Charlie, who had managed to crawl her way towards her. There was another crash from upstairs and Grace sighed. "You'd better go before you witness the murder of a child."

Dean chuckled, but he was still watching Grace out of the corner of his eyes. She was usually so put together, so tolerant of the kids, but today (and lately in general), things were different. Choosing not to voice his concerns, he leaned forward to kiss Grace good-bye and as he got closer, he could feel the warmth of her cheeks radiate out towards him.

"You feel warm, babe," he whispered. "You sure you're okay?"

Grace nodded and attempted a smile. "Yeah," she repeated. "I'm fine."

…

"Hey boss man," Tony greeted as Dean walked in the doors of his auto body shop. "Pontiac Grand Am in today. She's up on the lift waiting for inspection."

Dean nodded as he unloaded his pockets into the drawer behind the counter, but his mind was still at home, focused on Grace. "Yeah," he replied vaguely. "Get Stu on it for now. I'll sign her off later."

Heading for his office, Dean closed the door behind him and rubbed his face with both his hands. As he leaned forward in his desk chair, he heard the whoosh of wings, but didn't bother to open his eyes.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted, familiar with the sound of the angel appearing as if from nowhere.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel replied, nodding once in reply. "You're exhausted."

Shaking his head, Dean disagreed. "No, man," he sighed. "I've got four kids and a body shop. This is just how I am now. Grace. Grace is exhausted."

"Grace is a nephilim. She doesn't experience exhaustion the same way humans do."

Dean rolled his eyes, getting up from his chair. "That's what I'm saying. Since Holden…she's different. I can't put my finger on it, but I know she is."

"Using her abilities in the way she did is taxing on her grace, so I can understand that she would feel defeated after that show of power, but she should be recovered by now."

"I know, man," Dean spread his hands. "She's not. Serra said something the other day that stopped me dead."

Castiel blinked once, waiting for Dean to continue.

"She said, 'Jeeze, it's like you've got four kids or something'," Dean stared at Cas, waiting for a reaction, but Castiel remained stoic, obviously not understanding the sarcasm in his sister-in-law's voice. "She's showing that she's tired. She doesn't ever show she's tired."

"Since Holden?"

"Since Holden."

Castiel stood quietly for a moment or two as he pondered what Dean had said. Finally, he tilted his head with child-like curiosity and asked, "Why do you think that is?"

Dean clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I was hoping you would be able to tell me," he commented, sitting back in his chair. "She keeps saying she's fine, so for now, I'll let it go, but pay attention, will you? Something's up."

"Yes," Cas agreed. "I will watch her more closely."

"So what's the word, Cas?" Dean continued, bringing out two stacks of manila folders filled with invoices. "How are you? Haven't seen you around the last few days."

"I am well, thank you," Castiel answered. "I have been trying to get a lead on someone who may know about the coven of witches in Holden, but no one seems to know who or what they are. I'm beginning to wonder if they're witches at all."

"What else could they have been?"

Castiel shrugged his shoulders in a very human-like gesture. "Nothing else makes sense yet, and I am quickly running out of ideas."

Dean shook his head slowly, "You and me both, buddy. I've got a bad feeling about this whole thing."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Winds whipped over the Scottish hillside and howled through the craggily rocks near the shoreline. The sea spray pummeled her, but she stayed solid in her footing as she made her way to the caves at the end of the beach, where he was waiting for her.

It had been years of waiting, of toiling, to get all of the ingredients and incantations to the spell that would bring him back to her, and she knew, after tonight, it will have been all worth it. Together, they would be able to take the next steps into complete control. Her only regret was that she was dependent on another for success.

Clutching the leather satchel closer to her chest, she finally waded through the ankle deep water in the tide pools near the mouth of the cave and climbed inside; the wind unsetting her balance only the slightest bit.

The distraction in Holden had gone well, better than she could have hoped. The coven had done as asked, and for the most part, she had gotten what she needed from the townspeople they had controlled. The Winchesters had taken the bait, as they always could be counted upon to do, and now, with the nephilim's blood, she would be able to finish what she started.

Wind thrashed through the opening of the cave and she struggled to keep her fiery red hair out of her mouth, but getting frustrated, she slammed her hand down on the boulder in front of her and the air in the cave stilled, as if it was holding its breath. She tilted her head and popped her neck, finally content in her surroundings. She would be better, still, if Winchester hadn't seen her. She preferred to remain mysterious.

Delilah's cutting green eyes surveyed the stones in front of her in order to find the flattest of the group. She would need to be able to spread out the spell and draw the summoning star if she hoped for success, but she was still distracted with thoughts of the teenager that had been with the Winchesters. She had looked into those brown eyes, through that mousey, limp brown hair and seen the truth of that girl. Whether she knew it or not, they had been reunited and it didn't suit Delilah's plans. Not a bit.

With any luck, she would be able to avoid Sabina, never cueing her memories, never begging for attention. If necessary, she could always just kill her, but the guilt she dealt with on a regular basis was already heavy. Currently, the only problem begging attention was the spell work in front of her. Bringing him back would satisfy her needs immediately. It had been too long since they had been together, too long since he cocked an eyebrow in approval at her cosmic abilities.

Drawing with the chalk from her leather bag, Delilah drew a circle around the eight-pointed star, connecting all of the corners and completing the first step of the spell. Quietly, she murmured the incantation, her voice getting lost in the massive cave behind her. The air was still, waiting. Closing her eyes, she held her left hand towards the smooth boulder in front of her and in her right hand; she held a vial containing a cotton swab of dried blood.

Repeating the incantation again and again, she opened her eyes to watch the eight-pointed star ignite into flames. Delilah allowed the cotton swab to drop into the center of the star, along with three other ingredients: a lock of short, dark brown hair, a bouquet of herbs, and what appeared to be some type of sandy soil, but it was so fine, some blew into the cave surrounding her.

All at once, the cave was bathed in a harsh, yellow light, as if the cavern itself was ablaze. Delilah refused to look away. Her ocean eyes narrowed against the brightness of the fire and she took a deep breath, hoping that her plan had worked. She held her breath when the luster was too bright to take, looking away at the last moment. Finally, the cavern went dark, darker than it had been when she had begun the spell and she held her breath. Delilah's ears burned, waiting for a sound, any sound that would prove her spell successful.

She could feel movement in the cave, very near to where she was standing. Her red hair still hung in perfect curls along the side of her face as she waited, her lips curving into a smile, feeling his presence once again. Delilah knew, deep in her blackened soul, that her spell had been successful.

"Hello, darling," a voice said into the pitch black of the cave, echoing slightly off its curved walls. "It's been far too long."

…

Grace sat up straighter on the couch, tilting her head and listening to something her brother-in-law was unable to hear. "Grace, you okay?" Sam asked as he took Charlotte from her arms.

She remained silent and stared at the carpet in front of her. Liberty, Grace and Dean's eldest daughter, moved towards her mother and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Momma?" she asked, watching her carefully. "What do you hear?"

Liberty closed her eyes and attempted to tap into Grace's thoughts. Her other children followed; Glory stood next to her sister, waiting patiently for information, Everett slinked closer to his sisters, but stayed hidden behind Liberty, and Faith was silent from her high chair, staring intently at her mother with her clear blue gaze.

"Nothing," Grace finally replied. "Just chatter." She smiled tightly and moved to stand from the couch, forcing Liberty to break her contact.

Not quite believing Grace, Sam pressed his lips together and furrowed his eyebrows. "You sure?" he asked, stepping aside to allow Grace to walk into the kitchen.

Turning to take a deep breath, she nodded. "I thought I heard my name," Grace answered. "But there are always so many voices, it's hard to tell the difference."

"You look tired," Sammy commented as he helped pick up the toys that were scattered through the living room.

"Thanks?" Grace answered, her voice full of sarcasm as she dumped a pile of Cheerios on Faith's high chair tray. "Your brother said the same thing this morning."

Sammy shrugged apologetically. "Sorry," he added. "I'm just not used to you moving slowly."

Taking a deep breath, Grace straightened her posture and held her head a little higher. "Seems everyone has the same opinion," she muttered. "I think I might just need a break."

Sammy pressed his lips together again, knowing how often they used Grace as a babysitter and feeling guilty. "Maybe me and Serra can watch the kids and you and Dean can go out for a night or something," he answered.

"I'd settle for getting my nails done," Grace replied. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the pity she felt for herself. "No," she sighed, "I'm fine. I'm feeling sorry for myself and it's unnecessary."

"It's valid," Sam said, watching her as she began to empty the dishwasher. "You're here every day, all day, surrounded by the kids. You have the right to be tired."

Grace clicked her tongue, "As your wife reminded me so gently this morning, I'm half angel. This shouldn't be a big deal."

Sammy simply stared.

"I know," Grace answered his thoughts. "It's been since Holden. Things are different and I don't know if it's because we're more aware of everything or if it's because of Sabina…" she faded off and turned to put three coffee mugs into the cupboard behind her, tripping on the mat in front of the kitchen sink. Grace shook her head at her clumsiness and continued. "Either way," she sighed, "I just feel like we're being targeted for something, but I can't put my finger on why."

"Targeted?"

Grace turned and gestured, still holding the dinner plates in her hands. "Sammy, think about it. You and Serra fight off a group of demons while we're in Maine, fighting a coven of witches! There has to be a reason they picked right then and there to attack. I still think they're connected."

"Me and Sere didn't fight off the demons," Sam corrected. "Lib, Faith, and Cas did."

"Don't get me started on that," Grace muttered. "Having my five-year-old and my infant fight off demons on their own is not something I'm ready to deal with."

Sam was silent again as Grace continued putting away dishes. Outside, they heard the telltale sound of the Impala's engine as Dean turned off the highway and drove up the gravel road to the Big House. Grace glanced at the clock above the coffee pot and shook her head, still muttering to herself.

"Wasn't he supposed to be home at four?" Sam asked, seeing that it was close to six.

Grace pressed her teeth together, but said nothing.

Dean's boot steps echoed off the wooden porch and he used his keys to let himself into the living room. "Hey," he greeted, glancing up at his brother and wife. "Sorry."

"It's almost six," Sam commented. "What gives?"

"I know, I know," Dean answered, glancing at Grace. "I'm just behind. Cas was there about two hours today, just shooting the shit and taking up time."

"I resent that," Cas' voice answered as he appeared in the dining room. "We were having a valuable discussion about Maine."

Grace sighed heavily; still putting dishes away as four of the six kids came running down the stairs in attempt to be the first to greet Dean.

"Calm down, guys," Dean grunted, picking up his two oldest girls. "Have you been driving Momma crazy?"

Glory smiled slyly and nodded slowly.

"Alright," Sam commented, turning towards Levi and scooping Charlie off the floor. "Let's go home, you two. Let Uncle Dean and Auntie Grace have some time together."

"Bye bye bye!" Glory cried, waving furiously from her father's arms. "Tomorrow, we see you!"

Levi waved over his shoulder as Sam ushered him out of the kitchen and Grace waved vaguely towards the back door. A timer announced itself with a shrilling ring and Grace turned, using the oven mitts to take a casserole out of the oven and set it on the stovetop to cool.

Staying silent to simply observe his wife, Dean set the girls down after kissing them both on the forehead. They wandered away to visit with Castiel and Dean meandered into the kitchen. "You mad at me?" he asked quietly. "You're quiet. Quiet is never a good sound with you."

"I'm not mad at you," Grace answered. "Just frustrated. Everyone seems to think something is wrong with me because I'm tired. I'm allowed to be tired. I'm half human, too."

Dean pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show. "I don't think anything is wrong with you," he murmured quietly. "I just think you're a little worn down."

"I take care of five kids most of the day."

"Five?"

"Lib's in school all day, every day now. One down, five to go."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle as he brushed a renegade strand of blonde hair out of his wife's face. "Cas is here. After dinner, let's put the kids down and get the hell out of here."

Grace held his gaze and finally shook her head. "I'm so paranoid about leaving them."

"It's been three months, Gracie. They're safe. We're safe."

Clicking her tongue, Grace shook her head, saying, "We'll never be safe, Dean."

With that, Grace turned to close the dishwasher and the cupboard doors. Breaking contact with his wife, Dean flicked his gaze towards Castiel, who was watching silently from his place in the dining room. Cas seemed to agree with Grace; pressing his lips together and sighing quietly.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After hours of convincing, Grace finally stood on the open porch, staring into the darkness as Dean closed the door behind them. "I still don't know about this," she whispered as he locked the deadbolt. "Cas is by himself with all four of them."

"The only one he needs to really worry about is Faith, and he's her father anyway," Dean replied with a cocky half-grin. "I think he's got it in the bag."

Rolling her eyes, Grace took a deep breath and shrugged. "The others will be okay? They don't even know that we're going anywhere."

"They'll still be asleep when we get home. It's not like we're going to Paris."

"At this point, I feel like the diner is just as far away."

Dean took Grace by her arm and tugged gently. "Come on, Gracie," he pleaded. "It's just pie. We'll be gone for a couple of hours and then you can wake them all up and have them sleep in bed with us, if that makes you feel better." His jade eyes searched her face. "We can't stop living because we're afraid."

Finally, Grace nodded slowly. "Okay," she finally agreed. "Baby steps: just pie at the diner, and then straight home."

"I'll take whatever I can get," Dean replied, still tugging his wife down the stairs of the porch.

…

"Uncle Cas?" Liberty's voice was quiet as she snuck down the steps and into the living room.

Castiel turned and smiled at the eldest Winchester child and moved silently towards her. "Hello, Liberty," he greeted. "Why are you awake?"

"Where's Momma and Daddy?" she asked, turning to glance around the living room.

Crouching down in front of the child, Cas smiled gently and touched her shoulder. "They went to have some quiet time together. They are getting pie at the diner in town."

Libby nodded slowly, furrowing her eyebrows together. "Why didn't they tell us they were leaving?"

"It was a last-minute decision, Liberty," Cas replied. "And really, they expected you to remain sleeping."

Nodding once more, Liberty turned as if she was going to walk back up the steps. Hesitating slightly, she tilted her head. "Do you think I can stay up with you until they get home?"

Castiel smiled gently. "It can be our little secret," he answered. She threw herself around his leg and laughing, Cas trudged back to the couch. "As soon as you hear your father's car, though, it's off to bed."

"You got it, Uncle Cas," Lib whispered. "Can we watch a movie?"

"I have heard many good things about a movie involving small, yellow creatures wearing goggles and overalls," Castiel began. "I am interested in knowing what they are called."

Libby climbed up on the couch and giggled. "Are you talking about the 'Minions'?" she asked. "They're funny. Glory likes them, but Everett thinks they're stupid." Her wide smile faded a bit when she added, "Everett thinks a lot of stuff is stupid."

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows as he sat next to Liberty. "Your brother is a complicated creature," he explained. "There are many things that are happening to his psyche that we are still struggling to understand, even with baby Faith being at his beck and call. Perhaps when he is older, he will be able to express himself in a more positive way."

Liberty stared at Castiel and made a face, resembling Dean, "I don't know what that means," she answered. "But 'Minions' is still on Netflix."

"I remember Netflix," Cas commented, smiling. "There are many items to choose from. 'Orange is the New Black' is inappropriate for you, but I find it quite interesting."

Liberty giggled. "You're funny, Uncle Cas," she said, leaning into his chest.

"I'm glad you think so, Liberty."

…

"Liberty is awake," Grace commented as she and Dean drove down the highway towards the diner across town. "That didn't take long."

Dean glanced sidelong at her and lifted his eyebrows. "Forget it," he grumbled quietly. "I got you out of the house. I'm not taking you back until I get me some pie."

Grace shook her head slowly and covered the giggle that escaped her mouth. "If she was upset, I would make you turn around."

"She's with Cas. She's fine."

Grace turned to smile at Dean, nodding slowly. "I know," she sighed. "I just have this constant feeling of dread. It's like my body is on high alert and I can't put my finger on why. It's like there's something else going on and I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Dean pressed his lips together and shook his head. "You've been like this since Maine, Gracie. I know," he glanced at his wife and licked his lips, "you think something is always waiting right around the corner for us, and it probably is, but we have the kids and the shop. We can't just hunker down and be afraid to live. We're fighters. If something comes at us, we fight. We always have."

"That might be," Grace argued, "but like you said: we've got the kids now. We have a lot more to worry about." She turned to stare out the passenger window. "There's a lot more at stake."

"And we're more equipped than we ever have been before," Dean remarked. "We've got you and Cas; the nuclear arsenal, we've got your sister, who is just itching to pull the trigger on _something,_ and we've got Sammy." He shrugged. "Don't forget about Lucia, Jody, and Emery, either. They're always in our corner."

"They shouldn't have to be."

Dean shrugged. "But they are. We've got just as much firepower, if not more, than anything that we might come up against. Without sounding too cocky, I feel like we can take pretty much anything that comes gunning for us." Turning left into the diner, Dean leaned forward to stare at the neon sign and smile. "I love this fucking place," he commented. "I feel like you should be wearing those red sweats."

Slowly, Grace shook her head, "I got rid of them," she whispered.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, looking like Grace physically slapped him across the face. "You got rid of the red sweats?" He leaned his head forward and gripped the steering wheel tightly, " _The_ red sweats?"

"The waistband was all stretched out and there was a hole in the crotch," Grace answered, shaking her head. "I looked like a homeless person."

"Oh man," Dean sighed, shaking his head. "Such betrayal. I don't know if I can forgive you."

"I'll get some new ones," Grace supplied as they got out of the car.

Dean was shaking his head, shoving his left hand in his pocket as he reached for Grace with his right. "It's too late," he commented. "There's no replacing them."

He held the glass door to the restaurant open for her, not releasing her hand. "How will I ever make it up to you?" she asked as she walked through the door.

"I don't know," Dean sighed, holding up two fingers to the hostess. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Liberty was snoring softly as she leaned back against Castiel's chest. His position had not changed since the movie began, and he was still completely enthralled with what was happening on the screen. Taking a deep, noisy breath, Liberty rolled over so that she was curled into a tight ball on the couch near Cas' hip. As she moved, the back of the angel's mind tingled with worry: not from himself, but from one of the Winchester children.

Slowly standing, not wanting to wake Liberty, Castiel decided to go upstairs and investigate. Padding up the steps and listening carefully, he decided that it was Faith that seemed under duress, though she had not begun crying. "Faith?" he asked the darkness quietly. "It's okay. We are safe."

Approaching the crib carefully so as not to wake Everett, who was sleeping close by, Castiel peered over the railing and stared at the infant. "Faith, what is the matter?" he asked quietly. In the darkness, Faith turned her steel blue gaze towards the angel and blinked once, then promptly disappeared.

"Faith?" Cas asked, panic hitting his voice, hoping that he had imagined it. "Faith?"

…

"Charlie's crying," Serra muttered to the darkness of the room as she lay in bed next to her husband.

Sam rolled towards her and sighed, "Just give her a minute," he whispered. "See if she goes back to sleep."

Clicking her tongue, Serra rolled forward in bed. "She never just _goes back_ to sleep," Serra argued, trying to get untangled from the covers of their bed. "Goes back to sleep…" she repeated, shaking her head. "It's like you don't know her at all."

Sam chuckled to himself as his wife stumbled out of the room to head down the hallway. Half-way across the floor to her crib, Serra looked up and stared into the dim light coming from Charlotte's tiny nightlight to see her daughter through the bars.

"Hey, kiddo," she muttered, "you hungry or what?"

Serendipity reached up and leaned on the rail of the crib to stare at her daughter, but shook her head, convinced she was seeing two almost identical-looking babies, lying next to each other in the crib. "What the hell?" she whispered, rubbing her face. When Serra opened her eyes again, her daughter Charlotte was the only baby, kicking her chubby legs and chewing half-heartedly on her fingers.

"Oh, Lord," Serra sighed. "Momma needs more sleep."

Charlie kicked her legs in response, obviously happy to see her mother. There was still a wet trail of tears on the side of her chubby cheek, confirming that Charlie had been crying, but everything seemed to be alright now. Charlotte was happy and was almost already back to sleep.

Furrowing her eyebrows and taking a huge, silent step backwards, Serra padded out of the bedroom as quietly as she could.

"Everything okay?" Sammy asked, rolling towards his wife as she got back into bed.

Serra nodded slowly, running a hand through her wild auburn hair. "Yeah, I mean," she faded off, not knowing how to explain what she just saw. "She was crying, but she went back to sleep without me picking her up."

"I told you," Sam muttered, getting comfortable once again.

"Uh-huh," Serra answered, still confused. "I swear, for a minute I thought Faith was in bed with her."

Sam chuckled. "That's what working a twenty-four does to you. You start seeing things."

Laying back into her pillows, Serra nodded slowly. "Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah, I just need more sleep."

…

Castiel was as close to panic as an angel could be, but before he had a chance to lose control, Faith reappeared in her crib, sucking on her fist like nothing had happened.

Staring down at Dean and Grace's youngest child, Cas shook his head and uncharacteristically, he breathed, "What the hell?" Touching her, just to make sure she was actually there, Castiel glanced around the room as he rested his hand lightly on Faith's chest. Her heartbeat was calm and steady, meaning that whatever had just happened had not worried her as it had Castiel. "Did you do that on purpose?" he asked the baby quietly.

Flicking her steel blue gaze towards the angel, she simply stared unemotionally. Castiel nodded once to himself. "I forgot you are unable to speak quite yet," he replied to Faith's quiet gaze. "I still feel that you understand what I am asking, though. Can you show me where you went?"

Kicking her feet slightly, the baby smiled at Cas and slowly, images of a dark room filled his mind. There was another person in the room with her, and as Castiel looked around Faith's mind's eye, he felt familiar with the space, but couldn't name it. As he continued to watch through Faith's eyes, he realized that he was lying next to Charlotte, Sam and Serra's infant. Almost gasping in surprise, Castiel blinked and the image was gone.

"You went to comfort Charlotte?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at Faith.

She raspberried in reply, kicking her legs and smiling behind her hands.

"Oh, my," Cas sighed in response. "What will your mother say?"

…

Very carefully, Castiel scooped Liberty from the couch and carried her up the steps, just as he heard Dean's Impala in the gravel driveway. He had turned off her light and closed the door to her bedroom by the time Grace and Dean entered the house, smiling at them as he descended the stairs.

"Hey, Cas," Grace greeted. "Everything okay?"

Castiel nodded, smiling, answering her question so that Dean could hear as well, "Oh, yes. Liberty came down to watch a movie with me, but she fell back to sleep before it was over." Chuckling, Dean turned and tossed his keys onto the counter and bent to untie his boots. Still holding her gaze, Cas continued his thought process for only Grace to hear, " _It seems your youngest has a hidden talent or two."_

Grace flicked her eyes towards Castiel, silently asking, _"What happened?"_

 _"_ _I believe she is able to travel cross-dimensionally."_

"What?" Grace asked aloud, shocked into forgetting completely to keep her voice silent.

Cas pressed his lips together at her outburst and glanced at Dean, who barely looked up. "Obviously, I missed something, but at this point, I'm afraid to know, so. If it's important, tell me after I've had a few, huh?"

Ignoring Dean completely, Grace turned the conversation inward once more. _"How do you know? What happened?"_

Castiel took the crumpled blanket from the floor and began to fold as he replied, _"Faith began to cry, and since she never does, I went upstairs to check on her. When I entered the room, she was in her crib. I could see her through the bars, but by the time I stood in front of her, she was gone."_ Castiel turned to stare at Grace, _"She was gone long enough for me to worry, but I could still hear her. She reappeared moments later as if nothing had changed."_

Grace ran her hand through her long blonde hair and closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly. She watched as Dean picked up his boots and turn to stare at her. He took a deep breath and lifted his eyebrows, "Is everyone okay?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Should I be loading a gun?"

Grace shook her head slowly, still silent.

"Okay," Dean answered, nodding curtly. "I'm going to take a shower. You figure out this," he gestured between Grace and Castiel, "and then when you're good and ready, you can join me."

With that, Dean turned on a bare foot and headed to their bedroom. As soon as the door to the bedroom closed, Grace whipped around to Cas and whispered, "She can _bamf_ from place to place? What the actual fuck, Cas? How does my nine-month-old even know _how to do_ that?"

Castiel spread his hands widely. "I think it's obvious that Faith knows how to use her grace better than we assumed she could."

"Use her grace? Cas! She's an infant!"

"If angels were ever babies, I would assume the same type of thing would happen quite often in heaven. She is completely unique. I have never heard of a nephilim's child having more angelic blood than the nephilim." Castiel paused to think. "Honestly, I have never heard of a nephilim reproducing at all."

"Holy shit, Cas!" Grace spun on the toe of her shoe and strode to the kitchen, reaching for the bottle of Jameson that was tucked high up in the cabinet. "It's one thing," she began as she poured whiskey straight into the glass and took a swig, "to have a baby that can smite demons. It's a completely different thing to have one that can bamf from one place to another. What else can she do?"

Castiel shrugged. "I am sorry, Grace. I don't know."

"Where did she go?"

Closing his eyes, Castiel thought of the scene he had read from Faith's mind. Grace took a deep breath and watched as he looked around in his mind's eye and she couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips. "That's Charlie's room," she smiled. "She went to see Charlie?"

"I believe she went to comfort her."

Grace took another long drink of whiskey, closing her eyes as the alcohol burned her throat. Grace laughed again and shook her head slowly, staring at the angel that stood before her. Finally, she sighed, "We're gonna have to start training them."

"I considered the same possibility."

Nodding, Grace licked her lips and drained her glass. "I wish I could actually stay drunk," she whispered. "Okay," Grace continued. "I'll take care of telling Dean. Just…don't. Don't say anything to him yet. This will just stress him out."

"I understand," Cas nodded. His blue eyes searched Grace's as he waited patiently to continue.

She turned to look up at him and tilted her head. "What, Cas?" Lifting her eyebrows, she pressed her lips together. "Did something else happen?"

Castiel shook his head and looked at his shoes. "It's nothing, Grace," he replied.

"It's never nothing, Cas."

Taking a very human breath, Castiel put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and finally, staring up at Grace, he said, "The time I spend with Faith simply reminds me that she is not actually mine, though it feels that way. She is more angel than human…she resembles me. She feels like she was a part of me."

"She was."

He continued cautiously, "I worry that Dean has not accepted her as he has accepted the other children and I'm concerned that it's because of me."

Grace leaned on the counter of the bar towards Castiel, holding her whiskey glass between both of her hands. "Cas," she started quietly, "Faith was born after a very intense and very emotionally draining set of events that none of us had any control over. You and I…whatever that was," Grace licked her lips and made a face, struggling to find the words, "it's a part of who we are now. I feel like Faith is as much yours as she is Dean's and that makes him a little uncomfortable, just because that's a part of who _he_ is."

Castiel remained silent, but nodded his agreement.

"Obviously Faith has more power and ability than the rest of the kids and I think Dean is a little defensive about it because when we," she gestured between herself and Castiel, "make a kid; she comes out more angel than human, but when Dean and I alone are in charge, abilities get wonky and the Mark of Cain becomes a problem again." Grace sighed and leaned away from the counter, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Faith is practically an angel, but Everett and Lib both have Marks and Glory is shooting blanks so far." She shrugged, "It makes Dean feel lesser somehow."

"Dean is more complicated than he lets on."

Grace chuckled and nodded. "That is the truth, my friend."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"So, darling," Crowley drawled as he sauntered around the darkened room. "You bring me back from the dead, to what? Get revenge?"

Delilah leaned forward, sitting on the edge of her seat and twirling a scarlet curl around her manicured finger. "Revenge, yes, but I have been learning more and more about the destinies of the Winchester children," she replied quietly. "It started with curiosity about the Nephilim's power. I wanted to know if I could harness someone of her magnitude, especially being paired with the Mark."

"And?" Crowley dusted his fingers along the tips of the candles as he moves, lighting each one with a touch.

"And there are rumors flying about them."

Crowley rolled his eyes, completely unamused. "We have been hearing that blather since John Winchester bought that bloody car. The Winchesters this….the Winchesters that. It's all getting rather dull."

Delilah clicked her tongue, turning away from him to close the curtains. "You're missing the point, Love," she scolded. "There are four."

"Four what?"

"Four children," she cooed. "Four half breed, Nephilim-and-Mark-mixed, Winchester children."

Crowley turned and narrowed his eyes, staring at the beautiful creature before him. "I know why that could be important, but I find it a little hard to believe that you know why that could be important."

"Crowley," Delilah lectured. "You aren't giving me enough credit. I think you're forgetting that I am older and much more powerful than you."

Slowly, he shook his head and stared at his hands. It was good to be back in his own body, instead of wandering aimlessly around Hell for years. Crowley glanced up at Delilah, considering her momentarily. It took dedication to perform the spell that she had created, and for it to work as successfully as it had means that she had taken the time to track down each individual ingredient, in it's pure form.

"How did you get their blood?" Crowley asked, changing subjects.

Delilah shrugged. "Created a diversion with a Coven. They came just as quickly as I thought they would…always needing to be the heroes."

"And what of your sister?"

"She has no memory of the Coven. There is a tangle of stories I created as her old life…being a high school student was easy: I just implanted as much adolescent drama as I could. Made her obsessed with the 'Winchester Gospel' or whatever they're calling it these days. I doubt she's intelligent or talented enough to find herself ever again," Delilah picked at her pinky nail as she smiled serenely. "Memory charms are difficult to break, especially ones that I cast myself. It's nice to be rid of her. Sabina was never very powerful as a witch."

"You alone were blessed with the magic touch."

"Obviously."

"But she is still living with the Winchesters?"

Delilah shrugged. "I have a hex bag close by their property. If her memories somehow start to come back, the hex bag will take care of it." She leaned into the plush armchair where she sat. "Serendipity Browning would kill her before she had a chance to explain herself."

Crowley took a deep breath, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit. "Four Winchester children," he repeated finally, turning back to Delilah. "Do you think they're true, the rumors?"

Delilah smiled gently. "Others have thought so as well, but they acted too soon. Dekar, Ouriel…they didn't wait long enough. Impatient. Had the right idea, just the wrong timing."

"And the other two?"

"Sam and Serendipity's offspring?"

Crowley nodded.

Delilah smiled, lifting her eyebrows. "Guardians as well, from what I hear," she replied quietly. "I'm wondering if a bit of vessel got mixed in, too. Luci could have some fun in one of them, don't you think?"

Closing his eyes and shaking his head once, Crowley shook his head. "Don't get ahead of yourself. Having Lucifer out of the Cage is just as dangerous as it was when we first considered the possibility. He is loyal to one and one alone: himself. Knowing our luck, we would end up simply trading places." Crowley shook his head. "No, Lucifer can stay right where he is. If the rumors are true, then we won't need the bloody Angel of Light."

A wry smiled crept across Delilah's face. "Take control of the Winchester Four, take control of the Gates."

"In theory, yes, but it's never as simple as it sounds, especially when it comes to the Winchesters. That family…" Crowley pressed his lips together and made a face. "They are a bloody thorn in my side." He turned to Delilah. "I assume you have already developed a plan?"

Standing gracefully, Delilah padded towards Crowley and gently placed her hands on his chest. "Of course I do," she whispered. "You were just phase one."

"Priorities."

…

Standing at the counter, Sabina poured herself a cup of coffee and drank it in silence. She heard the water running; someone was obviously taking a shower. It was hard to disguise what you did in a house as old as this one. She could hear the children playing together upstairs; their footsteps pounded through the hall every few minutes. Sabina smiled lightly as she listened, hearing how happy they were when all four of them were together. Wild giggles echoed through the stairwell as one of the twins screamed in delight.

The shower shut off and the downstairs bedroom door opened as Grace entered the living room. She glanced up and seemed surprised to see Sabina. "Hey!" she greeted. "You're inside!"

Sabina turned slowly, nodding and attempting a smile. "I decided that joining the land of the living was the best medicine," she replied. Gesturing with her mug of coffee, she pointed to the stairwell. "You've trained them well."

Grace pushed hair out of her face and looked confused, "Huh?" she asked, trying to follow Sabina's line of thought. "Oh, the kids? Yeah, they're good about staying upstairs until we get up. It's nice." Watching the teenager carefully, Grace tried to listen to her thoughts, but they seemed garbled in some way. "How are you feeling? I haven't seen you around much."

"I'm okay," Sabina nodded slowly. "I just feel guilty now, more than anything."

"Survivor's guilt is something that I am all-too familiar with."

Sabina shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. "I don't know if it's survivors' guilt," she began, setting her mug down on the counter. "It's more me feeling guilty because I feel like I don't remember them. Like, I'm losing images of what they looked like and I'm having a hard time keeping track of what we did for holidays or special things as a family. It's one of the reasons it's hard to be around you guys…" Sabina shrugged. "You're such a closely knit family and you have so many little quirks that make you individuals. I can't remember what made my family special."

"It'll come back to you," Grace said, extending her hand to cover Sabina's. "And when it does, write it down. Take as many notes as you can to keep it all safe. Right now, your brain is looking for any solace it can, even if it means temporarily forgetting tiny details. It makes it less painful."

Sabina pressed her lips together and nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

Nodding, Grace smiled and turned to pour herself a cup of coffee. From the top of the stairs, a tiny voice called, "Momma! Can we come down now?"

"Yeah, Lib," Grace answered. "Hold on, I'm coming!"

Dean opened the bedroom door and held up his hand. "I've got 'em," he answered, stopping Grace in her tracks. "Just pour me a cup, will you?"

"Thanks, babe," Grace replied, turning back towards the cupboard and getting a mug down for her husband. Turning back to Sabina, Grace smiled. "You going with Dean today?"

Sabina shook her head slowly. "I think I'm going to go into town…start looking for a real job. Something that I can earn enough to move out of your barn."

"You can live in the basement," Grace replied, furrowing her eyebrows. "We've been through this already."

"I can't."

Before Grace had a chance to push the issue, the Winchester clan of kids came tumbling down the stairwell; squealing and laughing. Even Everett was all smiles, surprisingly leading the pack, but waiting at the foot of the steps for Dean as he carried Faith.

Opening her arms towards her children, Grace smiled and bent to kiss each one as they hugged her. "Morning, stranger," she greeted as her husband approached her last, holding the baby.

Dean kissed her and smiled gently, "Hey there, gorgeous," he replied. Glancing up at Sabina, he lifted his eyebrows. "Hey, kiddo. How's it going?"

Sabina shrugged, looking away. "Do I have to answer?"

Pressing his lips together, Dean shrugged, knowing the feeling all too well. "No," he replied.

Sabina nodded slowly, still not making eye contact with Dean. She glanced down as Glory stood in front of her, staring up at her, wide, blue eyes unblinking. "What's up, Glory?" Sabina asked. "Do I have something on my face?"

Glory didn't answer, but held her hand out towards her older sister, Liberty. Automatically, Lib reached for Glory and connected with her sister. They both shut their eyes as they communicated telepathically. Grace watched the exchange silently, but Dean stared at Grace, waiting for her to give him a clue as to what was happening. Glancing at her husband and shaking her head, Grace swallowed hard. "I can't hear them," she whispered.

Liberty finally opened her eyes and stared at her sister, glancing once at their parents. "Later," she whispered. Without looking at her brother, Liberty continued, "No, Ev," she whispered. "Be calm."

Grace's eyes flicked towards their son and watched as Everett about-faced and headed back towards the couch to fold his arms in front of his chest, looking vexed. Sabina seemed to sense the unease. She wasted no time in rinsing her coffee mug and setting it on the counter to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible.

"I'll see you guys later," she whispered, tucking her head and closing the back door.

Immediately, Grace turned towards her children and put her hands on her hips. "Guys, what was that all about?"

Glory and Liberty began speaking at once, trying to talk over each other in a fight for attention from Grace. "She's Sabina but she's not!" Liberty yelled, pushing Glory out of the way. "She's someone else now."

"She's thinking about the fight in Maine! She wanted you to lose!"

"She's lying!"

"She's – "

Dean held up his hands and lifted his eyebrows. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he called out, getting his daughters' attention. "Stop, stop, stop. What are you talking about?"

The girls started again, just as they did before, shouting over each other and pushing the other out of the way. This time, Grace took the lead. "Stop. Liberty, you go," she said quietly. "Tell me in sentences that make sense."

Liberty glanced at her sister and nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Sabina," she began. "She's not our Sabina any more. She's different…like," Lib paused, trying to think of the words she needed. "It's like she's remembering who she really is."

The silence in the kitchen was palpable. Glancing at Grace, Dean put Faith in the highchair as she watched with genuine interest. Shaking her head, Grace's surprised expression matched her husband's. Finally, she took a breath, "How did you hear all this and I can't?" she asked, staring at Glory. "And why can't I hear the two of you when you communicate?"

"Uncle Cas has been teaching me to close off," Liberty answered. "He said it's important to protect our thoughts and feelings."

"Not when I'm in the room," Grace lectured. "You can't close yourself to me. There're no secrets in this house, and that includes you and your siblings." She glanced at Everett, who was still cross-armed on the couch. "Ev, what's happening?"

"I'm mad," he replied, keeping his voice quiet.

Dean moved closer to the girls, unconsciously shielding his daughters with his body, still too familiar with the extent of Everett's tantrums. "Cool down, bud," Dean muttered. "Talk to us."

"She's lying to you," Everett answered, staring up at his father dangerously. "And Momma can't tell."

Dean glanced towards Grace, communicating as they always had with just a look. Taking a deep breath, Dean brought his baby to the other hip and moved closer to his son, edging Faith closer, just in case. "Alright," Dean began, taking a breath and rubbing his face with his free hand. "New rule: no closing off while Mom is around." He turned towards the girls and gestured to the steps. "You two, upstairs. Get dressed. You're gonna go see Gama Em."

Glory's face lit up immediately and she turned towards the staircase and took them as fast as she could go. Liberty, though, hesitated. "You're getting rid of us?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips, looking too much like Grace. "Why?"

"We're not getting 'rid' of you," Grace answered. "We just need some time to figure out what is going on and want you guys to be safe. If what you're saying is true about Sabina, then we're going to need to see what's next and we don't need the three of you throwing your opinions in."

Liberty gestured towards her baby sister, "What, she gets to stay?"

"Yeah," Grace answered, physically turning Liberty towards the steps. "The non-verbal one gets to stay."

"What about Ev?" Liberty pressed. "He's still mad and Gama Emery doesn't know how to deal with Mad Everett."

Dean glanced at Grace and lifted his eyebrows. Grace pressed her lips together and shrugged, continuing to Libby as if they had discussed it aloud, "We'll keep him here, too. Emery only needs two at a time, anyway."

"Not fair!" Liberty shouted as Grace rolled her eyes. "Everett always gets what he wants just because you're afraid of him. I should have had more tantrums when I was a baby and maybe I'd get what I wanted too."

Grace turned towards her eldest daughter slowly, licking her lips. "Let me lay this out for you, little girl," Grace whispered, bending towards Liberty's face, "we do what we need to do to keep each of you safe, including separating you when necessary. You will respect decisions we make, regardless of what you think about them."

Dean watched his daughter and wife stare at each other silently for longer than he felt comfortable doing. He held his tongue, though, and waited for one of them to break. Liberty looked away first, submissively staring at the ground and licking her lips. There were tears in her eyes, but she nodded slowly.

Pointing once more to the top of the staircase, Grace took a slow breath, "Now, if you're done digging yourself into a hole, you can go upstairs like I told you to, and get dressed. We're leaving in five."

Nodding once, Liberty turned and walked up the steps.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Grace took a deep breath and turned towards Dean. "I can't hear her," she whispered. "I can't hear any of them."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Dean glanced back at Everett, who was sitting silently on the couch with his arms still folded across his chest and moved towards his wife. "Why?" he asked, "What's different?"

"I don't know," Grace replied. "It's eerie, though. Too quiet. Usually, I can't shut them up in my head."

A moment of silence passed as Dean watched his wife carefully. He tried not to crack the smile he was holding, but failed miserably, "I'm not gonna lie; that assertion of dominance kinda turned me on."

"Oh my God," Grace sighed, rolling her eyes and heading back towards Everett. "Come on, kiddo," she said as Dean chuckled behind her. "I'll get you some breakfast."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Thank you, Em," Grace sighed as Glory and Liberty played quietly in the small yard behind Emery's tiny rental house. "We need to figure out what's happening with Sabina before we get too deep."

"Isn't it a little late for that?" Emery asked, putting her mug of coffee down on the counter top.

Grace shrugged. "Yeah, I know," she replied. "Holden really messed with our sense of security. I feel like we're just so exposed."

"What does your gut tell you?"

Pressing her lips together, Grace sighed. "I don't know. I can't figure out what is happening lately. All my instincts are all dulled and I feel like I'm going deaf. It hasn't been this quiet in my head since before Dean and I got married."

Emery turned towards the coffee pot and gestured to it, raising her eyebrows at Grace. She shook her head in return, so Emery returned to her own cup. "Since Holden?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Grace nodded towards Liberty and Glory. "Lib's getting cocky. Cas taught her and Glory to cut themselves off from the outside world to communicate telepathically, and I'm thinking I got caught in the crossfire. I can't understand why I can't hear what they're talking about, though. Sabina lying? I haven't heard anything like that. No red flags from my brain at all. It's weird."

Smiling, Emery nodded. "Your children are very talented," she began carefully. "I tried telling your daddy the same thing about you, but he wouldn't hear it. Didn't believe it."

"All the things he saw and he didn't believe that I could do what I do?"

"I don't think he knew what you could do. He was lost before you found your potential."

Grace stayed silent, but nodded her head. Running a hand through her long blonde hair, she turned towards the girls and gestured, "Lib's gonna be a firecracker," she commented. "We had it out this morning. Gave me some attitude."

"Can't imagine where she got it," Emery replied, smiling behind her coffee mug. "You and your daddy went round and round."

"At six?" Grace asked, raising her eyebrows.

Emery giggled, shaking her head. "Honey, I heard that you gave him hell from your first breath. It's a wonder he survived through you hitting puberty. At least he had it easy with Serra."

"Because he and Serra were practically the same person."

"No," Emery argued. "You got that all backwards, hon. You and Truman Browning are one in the same. Serra is exactly like your mother was…dependable, feisty, and deadly. I think you like to forget how much you and Tru had in common."

Grace turned towards Emery and narrowed her eyes. "We fought all the time, Em," she argued. "We never saw eye to eye."

"'Cause you're both so stubborn," Emery countered. "You and Liberty are following the same path as you and your daddy, but honestly, it could end up a lot more dangerous if you don't start including her in the discussions about what she and her siblings can do. All of you are special…I've heard it since I was brought into this world, and though he was more evil than I can imagine, Ouriel taught me a lot about the balance of Heaven and Earth." She took a deep breath and shook her head, trying to find the words to continue. "I have heard more than I ever care to know about our destinies and what we'll all end up doing with our lives. Lib is beginning to tap that potential and if you don't start taking the time to talk about it with her and start training her and the others correctly, you're going to end up with a pile of problems that you and Dean are ill-prepared to handle."

"Spit it out, Em."

Emery seemed taken aback with Grace's tone, but didn't lose a step. She continued, pointing out the window towards the two girls sitting out on the patio. "They're Gatekeepers," Emery stated, squaring her jaw. "It's why there had to be four. It's always been The Four."

Grace furrowed her eyebrows as Castiel appeared suddenly next to her. Without acknowledging him, Grace stepped forward and tilted her head at her surrogate mother as she leaned towards her. "What the hell does that mean? Gatekeepers? What is that?"

Cas held up his hands, looking as confused as Grace. "Are you sure you should be saying anything about the Destinies?" he asked, staring at Emery.

"Can it, Cas," Grace spat. She turned back towards Emery and continued, "What are Gatekeepers and why didn't I know about this before now?" As Grace realized what Castiel had asked, she whipped around and tilted her head, feeling the sting of deceit. "Do you know about my kids' destiny? Why haven't you said anything?"

Emery stared at Castiel and pressed her lips together. "This whole 'keeping secrets' thing is what got her father killed, Cas," Emery said, staring at the angel in her kitchen. "Don't you think it's time the Winchesters start telling each other the truth about what is happening to them? To each other?"

"We are forbidden from telling destinies," he stated simply, obviously giving into the hard-trained part of being an angel.

"Yeah," Emery nodded somberly. She gestured towards Grace, using her index finger to point at her, "She was forbidden once, too."

Castiel's lips were pressed into a thin line and he folded his arms across his chest, looking angry. "I will not responsible for the changes discussing this topic will bring. Emery," he scolded, "you know more than anyone that as soon as a destiny is realized, it has the potential to change."

"She and the rest of them have the ability to take what I tell them and use it for good. We might be able to finally get ahead of the monsters in this world, just once," Emery sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Ouriel kept secrets like the rest of you angels. Telling his secrets is what saved her life." Emery pointed at Grace with her index finger again and stared hard at Cas.

Grace watched the exchange, practically falling over with anticipation. "Holy shit, someone tell me what is going on."

Castiel and Emery stared at each other a moment longer and finally, Cas took a deep breath, huffing it out and uncrossing his arms. "I have no idea what is in store for the Winchester children," he said quietly. "But I still feel that they should find out when it is time."

Emery raised her eyebrows, "The time is now, Castiel."

Turning back to stare at Emery once more, Grace raised her eyebrows. "Well?" she asked. "What now? What else could possibly happen to us?"

"It's not something that will happen to you," Emery began, leaning on the countertop behind her. "The process has already begun. It began when you dreamed of Dean."

Grace's eyebrows lowered slowly, releasing the angry expression on her face. "I should have never gone into that bar," she whispered.

"Of course you should have," Emery argued. "You have never been so happy as when you have been with that boy, no matter what you have been through. Think about the outcomes…Serra and Sammy, the houses, _the kids_. All of that could happen because you went into that bar."

"Yeah, and being hunted by angels, being almost killed by Crowley, being dragged to hell, being stabbed and losing Faith the first time…all of that happened because I walked into that bar, too."

"Grace, just shut your trap and let me tell you what you want to know. Try your best to stop feeling sorry for yourself, while you're at it," Emery said, annoyed. "You have it way too good to wallow in the pity parade for much longer. Suck it up. You're alive."

Closing her eyes and holding in the argument that sat on the edge of her tongue, Grace took a breath and glanced outside, seeing that her children still played out in the tiny yard. "Fine," she replied. "Just tell me."

"A Gatekeeper is exactly what it sounds like: a chosen person to guard the gate of a particular world. In this case," Emery explained, "there are four. There are always supposed to be four."

"And what gates are they supposed to guard?" Grace asked, closing her eyes.

Taking a deep breath behind her, Castiel answered quietly, realization hitting him hard. "The only ones that really matter," he whispered.

Emery continued, "Earth, Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory."

Grace's mouth slowly dropped open and she reached with one hand to cover it. "You're talking _literally_ about the Gates. Why? Why my kids?"

"You had to have known something would come of your children," Emery added quietly. "Dean is _Michael's Vessel_. You're half _angel_. You both were chosen for greatness; to protect what we have."

Licking her lips and turning away from Castiel and Emery, Grace covered her face with both of her hands, trying to keep control of her emotions. The lights in Emery's small kitchen flickered, forcing Emery to glance at Castiel. He kept eye contact with Em and pressed his lips together, lifting his eyebrows momentarily. The lights flickered again as Grace stumbled to the chair at the kitchen table and as she sat down, the incandescent bulbs grew brighter and brighter until suddenly, every glass bulb in the kitchen exploded, sending tiny shards of glass in every direction.

"Gracie, get control," Emery whispered, walking towards her surrogate daughter, extending her arm to comfort her. "I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you, but you _had_ to know. Someone _had_ to tell you."

Grace was crying now, supporting her face with her hands as she rested her elbows on the table. Liberty and Glory turned in tandem towards their mother from the backyard and stared into the kitchen through the sliding glass door.

"Stop, Gracie," Emery consoled as another light bulb, this time in the living room, grew so bright that it broke into pieces. "You're bursting my lights, honey."

Lowering her hands and staring at Emery, Grace furrowed her eyebrows and practically shouted, "Oh, I'm sorry about your lights, Em. Two of the Gatekeepers and I will stop at the piggly-wiggly on our way back through town." Grace didn't attempt to hide the sarcasm in her words, but instead squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her face with her hands. "I can't believe this. I can't believe that we just can't be _normal_ ," she slammed her hand down on the kitchen table and behind them, the sliding glass door shattered. "It's all I have ever wanted! I thought by surviving our way through hunting and the apocalypse, that maybe, just _maybe,_ someone upstairs might eventually have mercy on us and we would finally get to just _exist."_

Emery's kitchen window exploded out towards her front yard, forcing her to wince. "Grace, you need to get control of yourself," she whispered. "Your babies are watching you."

"They're -" Grace cut off and glanced around, finally realizing what she had been doing unconsciously. "God, I'm sorry, Em," she sobbed, rubbing the tears out from under her eyes. "I can't control it right now. I can't control anything right now."

…

Dean turned towards his youngest daughter as she began to cry. "What's wrong, Pot Roast?" he asked, moving towards her as she sat on the floor. As soon as he took another step towards her, she vanished right in front of his eyes. "Holy shit," he whispered, glancing around. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit."

Everett turned from his place on the floor to face where his baby sister had been sitting only seconds before. "Where is Faith?" he asked his father quietly. "Where'd Faith go?"

"I don't know," Dean replied, running a hand through his hair. "It's okay." Dean breathed. "It's okay, Ev," he repeated, trying to comfort himself almost as much as his son. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Grace's number automatically. "It'll be okay. Don't…don't freak out."

Grace's phone rang and rang, but she didn't pick up the other line. Dean could feel himself falling further into a panic, but took a deep breath, closing his eyes and very quietly, he asked the room, "Faith? Baby, come on back."

Everett stared at his father, waiting as patiently as he could, but the small, faint Mark of Cain pulsed on his arm.

Taking another deep breath, Dean asked, "Cas? A little help, here?"

…

Castiel's ice blue eyes flicked towards Grace as she regained control. "Dean just prayed for me," he said quietly towards Emery.

"What?" Grace turned towards Emery and Castiel. "Why?"

"I don't know," Castiel replied, "Do you want me to go to him?"

Grace turned to watch her older daughters as they walked towards the house, but they both turned as Faith crawled after them. "Faith just appeared," Grace whispered, pointing towards the small yard.

" _What?"_ Emery shouted, running to the broken window. "How?"

Liberty and Glory turned towards their baby sister and knelt down to greet her, almost as if they expected her. "I can guarantee that's why Dean just prayed for you, Cas," Grace commented quietly. "I left her and Everett with him. Go to Dean and calm him down. I'll call him right now." With that, Castiel nodded and disappeared.

Slowly and carefully, Glory and Liberty came through the broken window, "Momma, what's wrong?" Libby asked, stepping over the metal frame of the door and tiptoeing thought the piles of broken glass. "I could feel the air."

Almost forgetting her original emotions, Grace shook her head. "It's okay, baby," she replied. "I was upset and lost control for a minute."

Staring up at her mother with piercingly blue eyes, Glory tilted her head. "Why?" she asked. Faith stopped on the border of the grass, waiting patiently for someone to pick her up and carry her over the shards.

Grace got up and stepped through the glass, scooping her daughter from the ground. "Should we break the news to Gama Em?" she asked Faith, wiping her face. Grace looked up at Emery and took a deep breath. "I guess it shouldn't surprise you that this one can already travel 'cross dimensionally' as Cas puts it."

"She can teleport herself?" Emery asked.

"Yeah."

"How long has she been able to do that?"

Grace shrugged and held the baby close, breathing in her scent. "Long enough to be discovered by Cas. We haven't even told Dean yet. He's probably close to tears right about now." Grace picked up her phone and saw that she had three missed calls from her husband. "Well, that's why he asked for Cas. My phone is on silent."

"Big day," Emery commented.

Grace made a face, nodding slowly. "Getting a little sick of it," she replied. "I'd like a small day."

"You and me both, kiddo."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"You're telling me that you've known that my youngest can _bamf_ from one place to another and you didn't tell me?" Dean asked, crossing his arms across his chest and tilting his head at his friend. "How long have you known?"

Castiel took an uncomfortable breath and pressed his lips together. "Since you and Grace went out that night, when you left the children with me."

"A month? You've known for a month?" Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I take it Grace knew," he continued, turning back towards the angel. "You told her?"

"She would have heard me think it anyway, Dean," Castiel commented. "Faith disappeared the first time when she was in her crib. I believe she went to comfort Charlotte."

Dean stared, open mouthed, at Cas. Slowly, he began shaking his head in disbelief. "I just…it's a lot to wrap my melon around." Turning towards the counter in the kitchen, he opened the cupboard door and pulled a glass from the shelf. Chuckling to himself, Dean poured a liberal amount of whiskey into the glass and took a big swig of the amber liquid.

"It's ten o'clock in the morning, Dean," Cas commented.

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded, "Yeah, well," he took a deep breath and lifted his eyebrows. "My kid can disappear and reappear at will and she's eleven months old, Cas. I think it's a pretty good reason to day drink."

Castiel nodded slowly and stared at his shoes, silent as he decided what to do next. "You're probably going to need the bottle then," he muttered.

"Need the bottle?" Dean repeated, lowering his face to try and stare at Castiel. "Dude, what now?"

"It's best if you and Everett just come with me."

Dean backed away. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he replied, holding up his hands. "It takes me so long to get regular after you do that. Just, let me drive, will you?"

"Fine. Meet us at Emery's."

With that, Castiel disappeared and Dean was left stayring at his son. "Well," he took a deep breath. "You got your way. Let's go see your sisters."

…

Everett bounded up the steps to Emery's house as Dean shut the back door to the Impala and shook his head. "I should have brought that bottle," he muttered to himself as he followed his son up the stairs. "Hey," Dean shouted into the house as he opened the front door, letting Everett inside. "It's me!"

"We're back here," Grace's voice answered. "Watch out for the glass."

"Glass?" Dean asked as he turned the corner into the kitchen and living room. "Jesus. What happened?"

Grace took a deep breath and turned around, holding a broom. "I lost control a bit," she answered.

Not wasting any time, Dean whipped his head around to Emery and asked, "You have any whiskey?" Emery pressed her lips together and shook her head slowly. "I'd take just about anything right now."

"Sit down, Dean," Grace muttered, sweeping the glass from the broken light bulbs into a neat pile in the middle of the floor and stepping around it to join him at the table. She glanced at their children, playing outside together, took a deep breath, and continued. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Faith," she began. "I just knew how you'd react and honestly, I was still processing it, so I didn't know what to say. I mean," Grace rubbed her face again, "I can't even do that. Cas says I could if I learned how, but…"

"I get it," Dean answered, glancing up at Castiel and Emery. "My issue isn't that _she can_ ," he continued, "it's if the others can or not. I mean, keeping them in one place? How are we going to handle the teenaged years?" Dean shook his head. "The stories I know about you? They're going to be a nightmare!"

"That's the least of it," Grace answered quietly.

Dean gestured to the broken glass on the floor, "Well, considering you already knew and there's still broken glass everywhere…"

"Yeah," Grace agreed quietly.

Leaning forward, Dean took Grace's hands from her lap and held them in both of his. Emery and Castiel glanced at each other and Emery nodded once, leading him outside with the Winchester children to give Dean and his wife some privacy.

"Gracie," Dean's voice was low and deep, forcing Grace to stare up at her husband's face. It was the same comforting voice that she had listened to in situations just as bad as this one; times where angels were hunting the entire Winchester family; when she had returned from being tortured in Hell only to have to leave again, this time to Heaven to bring Sam back from the other side. Dean's voice is what grounded Grace; it gave her solace when she felt like she had nothing left. In that moment, she was reminded why she had walked into that bar so many years ago.

Grace belonged with Dean, and he belonged with her. There was no one else.

"I know you have heard of Gatekeepers," Grace began quietly, finding strength in Dean's large, warm hands. "With a capital 'g'."

"Gatekeepers like Gatekeeper of Heaven?" Dean asked, "Like the reason I was able to get out of Purgatory?"

Grace agreed quietly, "Because there was no Gatekeeper."

"Was," he commented. Grace's use of the past tense was not lost on Dean.

Swallowing hard, Grace nodded. "There are Gatekeepers now," she whispered.

There was only silence between them as Dean processed what Grace was attempting to explain. Slowly, Dean's green eyes shifted to stare out the broken sliding glass door to stare at their children. Grace felt as if time was slowing down as Dean's subconscious seemed to put everything together. "Four kids…" he whispered, flicking his eyes back to Grace. "Four Gates."

Grace's icy blue eyes filled immediately with tears and she took a quick, ragged breath as she nodded. "Four gates, four kids," she agreed quietly.

"What…" Dean attempted to find his voice. "What does that even mean? What happens now?"

Grace shook her head slowly and shrugged. "I don't know," she began, "but I don't think the whole 'immortal' thing applies only to us," she finished, using her fingers as air quotation marks.

"How did you find out?"

Nodding towards the backyard, Grace answered, "Em told me. She picked up quite a bit from Ouriel and the other angels." Slowly pulling her hands away from Dean's, Grace took another breath and stood, avoiding the glass piled up in the middle of the floor. "She started talking about the Gates because I pushed her into it. Knowing our luck, she'll probably get struck by lightning now, just for telling us."

Dean simply stared at Grace, obviously still processing what was happening.

"Cas didn't want her to say anything."

"He knew too?" Dean whined. "How are we their parents and we're still always the last to know everything? I can't stand being out of the loop."

Grace bent to sweep up the last of the glass on the kitchen floor. "Well, I think it's because they think they're trying to protect us from knowing too much too fast. I'm in the "rip the band-aid off" camp, so I'm hoping this is all of it."

"Bet you a case it's not."

"Depends on what it's a case of." The corners of Grace's lips tugged into a half-smile and she shrugged. "Either way, we're still Mom and Dad to the Gatekeepers, whatever that means."

"Makes us a target," Dean replied, standing and scooting the kitchen chair in.

Rolling her eyes, Grace turned to face her husband. "When's the last time we weren't?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The three older Winchester children jumped out of the giant, vintage Suburban as Grace put the truck in park. They bounded up the steps to the farm house as Dean walked around the front end and reached for his infant daughter, settling her on his hip as he slammed the door to the Tank. He waited for Grace to grab her purse and walked hand in hand as they approached their home.

"They seem to be taking it well," she muttered, glancing at the group of kids waiting impatiently on the porch for one of their parents to unlock the door.

Dean lifted his eyebrows as he released Grace's hand so she could unlock the front door. "It's not like they were really paying attention," he answered, staring at his kids. "But, I mean, they could have already known. I don't know. Is this something they could have already known?"

Liberty led Glory and Everett into the living room and straight towards the kitchen, unlocking and opening the back door to go out into the field between the Winchesters' houses. Grace and Dean turned and watched as they ran across the field and towards the barn, scaring crows into taking flight.

"I don't know. This is huge," Grace muttered, rubbing her face. "And if we don't get Sere and Sam over here to explain what's up, she's gonna have my hide."

Dean licked his lips and grinned at Faith. "I don't know," he chuckled at Faith as she reached for his teeth. "It's always kinda fun with Momma and Auntie Luck fight, don't you think?" he asked the baby. Faith raspberried in response. "Serra worked a twenty four yesterday, didn't she?"

"Two days ago."

Dean shrugged. "Well," he sighed. "Let's rip the band aid off."

…

"News," Serra said into the phone as she poured another cup of coffee. "What kind of news?" Sam stopped what he was doing and turned towards Serra, who was attempting to pour coffee, hold her phone in between her shoulder and her face, while still holding Charlotte on her hip. "What, are you pregnant again?"

"Oh, God," Grace answered. "Please don't say things like that."

"Then what?"

Grace clicked her tongue. "Just get over here so we can get to the next step," she answered. "And I'm not getting pregnant again if I can help it."

"That's what you said after Everett."

Grace hung up the phone without another word and Serra chuckled, putting the phone back on the counter. "She's got 'news' she says," Serra turned towards Sam and used her free fingers as quotation marks. "Not pregnant, though."

"Well, at least it's new news," Sammy replied, chuckling to himself. "I saw the big kids out in the barn. Lee can go with them while we talk."

Serendipity nodded and glanced out the window towards her sister's house. Grace had a tone in her voice…a tone that was only ever bad news. She didn't share her concerns with her husband, though, but took a deep breath and smiled down at her daughter. "Okie dokie, Charlie," she said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go see what kind of trouble your aunt is in now."

…

"Gatekeepers," Serra repeated, staring at Dean and Grace, who both were leaning up against the counter with their arms crossed. Serra considered them momentarily and nodded, agreeing to the sentiment that if you were with someone long enough, you began to resemble them. "You know, I'm curious how much Billy knew before we hit adolescence."

"Billy?" Grace asked. "Billy Griffin?"

Dean glanced at Sam and raised his eyebrows. "Billy Griffin the pawnshop owner?" he asked.

"Yeah, you guys knew him?" Serra agreed, tilting her head.

The boys nodded their response. Grace glanced at Dean and smiled, "Billy was our Bobby. The guy knew everything."

Serra took a deep breath as she continued, staring at her sister. "You don't remember Dad and Billy talking about Gatekeepers back when the Apocalypse started?" Grace shook her head, so Serra continued, "Well, you never listened to Dad anyway."

"Dad never had anything positive to say," Grace answered, rolling her eyes. "And besides, he didn't know…he couldn't have known that my kids would end up as Gatekeepers. I didn't even know what they were!"

Serendipity rolled her eyes and turned towards Sam. "You know what Gatekeepers are, right?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "If they're anything like what they sound like, then yes. Guarding of a gate," Sam shrugged. "Pretty cut and dry."

Serra was holding out her hands and shaking her head. "No, no, no," she began. "Gatekeepers with a capital G. _The_ Gatekeepers. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and Earth."

"I wasn't aware that there was a difference."

A small grin spread across her face as Serra glanced around the room. "You're telling me that I'm the only one that knows what she's talking about? I know the answers and you don't?" Serra lifted her eyebrows to the blank stares she got from her family. "Jesus, is this how you guys feel all the time?"

"Stow it, Serra. Did you know the kids would be The Gatekeepers or not?" Grace asked, irritated.

Serra shook her head. "No, of course I didn't know that _your_ kids would be them, of course not. Looking back now, though, I should have maybe put it together, because of course _your kids_ are Gatekeepers." She took a deep breath and a swig of her coffee. "From what I know about the Gatekeepers, they're family groups. The Gates have been without Gatekeepers for, I don't know; a couple of hundred years or so. Dad talked about it every once and awhile." Serra pulled out one of the kitchen table chairs and shook her head as she sat down. "I heard rumors both from Billy and a couple of other hunters that the Apocalypse was because there weren't any Gatekeepers. It was a fight to get control of the Gates, and talks that Lucifer wanted Hell, but it never worked. They have to be blood."

"The Gatekeepers have to be related?" Dean asked.

"That's what blood means," Serra answered sarcastically. "Then a couple of times, I heard Billy talking that there were Guardians that would…" Serendipity faded off, comprehension seemingly dawning on her for the first time. "Oh my God," she muttered. "The Guardians protect the Gatekeepers."

Serra and Grace locked eyes and Grace whispered, "Guardians."

Nodding slowly, Serra answered, "Warrior of Fucking Heaven."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks and turned in tandem to stare at their wives. "You both need to back up a bit," Dean demanded. "Gatekeepers, Guardians, Warriors…there's a lot of titles being thrown around right now and I'm not sure I'm keeping up."

Grace gestured to Serendipity, "Of course this is all lining up. Of course it's not just us and the kids," she began. "Serra is a Warrior of Heaven, we've known that for awhile. Sam is Lucifer's Vessel. Their combination had to be something as well…nothing on this ranch is ever easy."

"You're saying that our kids are Guardians of the Gatekeepers?" Sam asked, moving closer. "What does that even mean?"

"That the Warrior thing might be genetic," Serra spat. "Seems that everyone has a job, here."

"Except me," Grace answered. "I'm not anything except a half-breed. Sam's a vessel, Dean's a vessel, you're a Warrior."

"You sound disappointed," Dean ventured, rubbing his face. "Seems that being a Nephilim would be enough for you."

Grace shrugged and smiled weakly. "I want a title," she added.

"Nephilim," Serra argued. "That's your title."

Rolling her eyes, Grace turned back to Dean. "Well," she sighed, "now what?"

Dean shrugged, glancing down towards his feet, where Faith was attempting to stand while pulling on the legs on his jeans. "I don't know," he answered, smiling at his daughter. "What do you think, Pot Roast? You have any ideas?" He bent to pick her up and held her against his chest, patting her back with his free hand. Rubbing her face into his chest, Faith babbled and yawned. She sighed and rested her head against her father and he stared up at his wife. "She's no help. Guess it's back to the adults?"

Grace nodded. "We train them, just like we talked about," she explained. "We train ours to use their abilities to survive any way they can. We train yours to fight."

"We train them all to fight," Serra corrected. "They all need to know how to survive, abilities or not. They need to know more than we ever did."

Sam nodded, "We don't hide any of this from them."

"Wow," Dean took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. "Winchesters communicating is a new thing. I don't know if I'm ready for it."

"Well, get ready," Grace answered. "Because like it or not, it's happening."


	10. Chapter 10

::I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday with their families! It's been a busy couple of weeks, but I'm back to posting regularly. Please let me know what you think! I love reading reviews. Thank you so much! Enjoy!

Love and internetty hugs,

TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo::

...

Chapter 10

Delilah paced the room, fingering her short, golden red curls. Glancing back at Crowley for the fourth time since she began her trek around the room, she sighed heavily. Crowley seemed content simply sitting in the large arm chair in the corner of the room, but there were so many things to be done.

"How much longer are we just going to sit here?" she finally asked, turning to face him. "We need to get to work."

Crowley's expressionless gaze found Delilah's and very slowly, he narrowed his eyes to consider her. "That is the problem with you Americans. You're always in such a rush," he purred. "You never take your time. Everything has to be done right away." Slowly, he stood from his chair and approached the open window with his hands in the pockets of his perfectly pressed slacks. "You said it yourself," Crowley continued without looking at her. "Your sister is in place at the Winchesters. When the time is right, we'll use her."

"I am not American," Delilah muttered, shaking her head. "And she's not dependable," Delilah spat, shaking her head. "I never wanted to use her as part of our plan."

Crowley didn't turn, but continued staring out the glass, "I didn't ask what you wanted. You brought me back. You'll listen and follow me."

"But I—"

Blinking slowly as he turned, Crowley tilted his head to consider the woman standing before him. Delilah closed her mouth immediately and stared at the ground, afraid to continue.

"Take a seat, love," the corners of Crowley's lips pulled into a smile. "I'd like you to sit this one out."

Delilah stared at Crowley, her eyebrows creasing in the center as she seemingly lost control of her body and was forcibly put onto the couch behind her. She struggled against the position, but when she realized it was Crowley and therefore out of her control, Delilah went limp and took a deep breath through her nose. Delilah decided to play the part, if only temporarily, so she sat, staring harshly at her companion.

"I'm telling you right now, Crowley; Sabina will only be detrimental to our endgame. She is useless as a witch and will only complicate any spells we plan on performing," Delilah explained, her hands pressed into the couch cushion, palms up. "Everything I've worked for…everything you've worked for…Crowley, please. Please let me help and we can do this together."

"I work alone," Crowley replied. With that, he disappeared from the lush, dark room.

…

Crowley glanced around as he walked slowly up the gravel driveway, staring at the large, open garages in front of him. "Winchester Auto," he whispered, reading the sign and shaking his head. "Bloody hell, how long have I been gone?"

As he approached, he took note that the sleek, black Chevy Impala was parked next to a dark blue El Camino and nodded. "Black and blue," Crowley muttered. "Like a bruise that just won't go away."

The doorbell jingled as Crowley let himself in, and he stood in the doorway momentarily as he watched the Winchester Family Auto Body employees mill about the garage, obviously hard at work. Scanning the framed photographs that littered the walls, Crowley moved closer to inspect a black and white portrait of Dean and his very pregnant wife, standing outside of their turn-of-the-century farmhouse, looking as happy as can be.

Slowly smiling, Crowley nodded. "Liberty Winchester," he whispered. "Little Miss Purgatory herself."

"Welcome to Winchester Auto," a voice called towards Crowley. "Can I help you?"

Knowing it wasn't the Moose or Squirrel's voice, Crowley turned and lifted his eyebrows. "Yes," he answered, smiling politely. "I'd like to see about purchasing that car in the parking lot."

The young man nodded once, rolling up the renegade sleeve that had fallen towards his wrist. "Hey, Deano!" he called, "Dude's here about the Lincoln for sale!"

With his eyebrows still raised, Crowley shut his eyes, disgruntled at the young man's sudden volume.

From the back of the garage, he could hear Dean reply, "Dude, Jeff, we've got an intercom for a reason."

The young man called Jeff smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Oh, yeah, sorry," he replied, glancing at Crowley, redness finding his cheeks. "It's my first week. Dean will be right out."

"Thank you," Crowley answered, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants once more.

From the back of the garage, he could see the Winchester brothers appear and walk across the garage floor. They were speaking in hushed tones, Dean wiping his greasy hands on a dirty rag and then tossing the rag towards a tool box as he passed it. He had yet to look up towards the counter, but continued his pace as he gestured animatedly towards his brother. Dean looked vexed, but that was usually the case with the elder Winchester, from what Crowley remembered.

Finally, Dean and Sam came up to the counter and Sam hung back as Dean lifted the counter to let himself in, ready to greet Crowley. He hesitated though, seeing the wide-eyed, mouth open look on his brother's face. "What, Sam?" he asked, turning towards Crowley.

"Hello, boys," Crowley crooned. "It's been awhile."

…

"What the _in the fucking hell_?" Dean whispered, leaning forward towards Crowley. "You're—aren't you supposed to be dead?" He reached behind his back, fumbling for a gun that was no longer kept in the waistband of his jeans. "Why aren't I packing anymore?" he muttered violently to himself.

Sam was already approaching the other side of the counter, boxing Crowley in, away from the glass entrance to the shop. Crowley smiled at Sam, "You're just as ridiculously tall as I remember."

"There's a gun under the counter, Sam," Dean growled. "Probably a suppressor too. I'm not worried about the second part."

Sam reached under the countertop for the gun, but Crowley's voice stopped him. "Do you really think I would hang around long enough for you to shoot me, Moose? Not that it would cause any damage. It's not like this body can't be fixed."

The Winchesters inched closer to Crowley, forcing him to take a step back towards the glass entrance. "Alright," Dean muttered, "so you're not dead. How the hell are you back? I mean, you being back can't be good news."

"Always first to be negative, Not-Moose," Crowley answered. "Have you even stopped to think about how I may have gotten my lovely body back? It's not me you should be worried about."

Glancing up, Dean noticed that Stuart was watching the exchange with a worried look on his face. "Outside," Dean demanded. "Now."

Rolling his eyes, Crowley turned on a heel and sauntered his way out of the door. "Such terrible manners," he purred. "I would have liked to think being domestic for so long would have taught you a thing or two about seeing old friends."

"Friends?" Sam asked. "I wouldn't exactly call us friendly. You almost killed Serra."

"And Grace," Dean added.

Crowley waved his hand, dismissing Sam's sentiment. "Oh, posh," Crowley sighed. "That's all in the past. Your women no longer interest me. I'm only ever looking out for number one."

"And why wouldn't number one be safe? You came back from the dead."

Crowley turned to smile sadly at Dean, "Your wife is a powerful creature, sure, but kill me? Not many could achieve that. Not even a lowly half-breed such as her."

"Then where have you been?" Sam demanded, stepping closer towards Crowley.

He smiled, "Wouldn't you like to know?" he asked. "Banished is more accurate of a term." Crowley turned towards Dean and lifted his eyebrows, nodding back towards the shop. "In the time that you have created four children and built a successful body shop, others from all over have been planning how they're going to take out the Winchester children, who, in case you missed the memo, are quite talented creatures all on their own." Crowley shoved his hands back in his pocket. "Gatekeepers. I know you've heard already."

"Yeah, what of it?"

Crowley lifted his eyebrows and gestured with his head towards the body shop. "You should probably give the 'all-clear' to your watchdog there in the back," he whispered. "If looks could kill."

Dean glanced over his shoulder at Stuart, who looked just about ready to come through the glass at Crowley. He pressed his lips into a fine line and shook his head incrementally at his friend, waving him off. Turning back towards Crowley, Dean took a deep breath. "Gatekeepers. What?" he growled. "Get to talking or we get to try to kill you again."

"Since you're finally in the know about your children, I have decided to help you keep them in one piece."

"You've decided," Dean repeated. "Why?"

Sam piped in, "And what makes you think that we're going to trust you?"

"Jesus, Moose," Crowley rolled his eyes. "I thought we had discussed that, in depth. Don't. Never trust anyone. Haven't I taught you anything?"

"Come on, come on," Dean motioned with his hand and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why do you think we need _you_ to protect my kids?"

Crowley licked his lips and glanced up towards Dean, keeping his voice low, now obviously very serious. "Your children are the Gatekeepers: Heaven, Purgatory, Earth," he paused and blinked slowly. "And of course, Hell."

"And?"

"And in the following years, you will spend more time trying to keep your children alive than you will here at this fine establishment." Crowley rocked forward on the tips of his toes and took another breath. "Now that I am among the living, or rather, not floating aimlessly in Purgatory again, I like my place as I have it in Hell. I would like to stay there. That will only be possible with Everett Winchester still breathing."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sam and Dean exchanged nervous glances and Dean cocked a suspicious eyebrow. "Not that I'm arguing against my son still breathing, but I don't get it. What does he have to do with you keeping your throne in Hell?"

Crowley tilted his head, "Anyone that has ever gone after the Winchester children have had only their demise in mind. No one seems to think long-term." He took another breath and shook his head. "If your boy isn't alive to take his place as Hell's Gatekeeper, not only will the others fall, but no one will be able to take their righteous place. The Four must be blood, be _chosen_ as your offspring have, and they must take their positions at the same time. If a Gatekeeper does not follow the rules, ancient law ceases to be. Chaos will erupt and it's anyone's game."

Sam was shaking his head. "Stop being so dramatic and spell it out," he spat, annoyed.

"If your kids don't take their positions when it's their time, anyone can step in and allow the Gates to fall. If Lucifer is broken out of the cage, as I have heard the rumors go, he will attempt to take Hell's Gate, releasing a million generations of the worst of the worst. Earth will fall first, then Purgatory."

"What about Heaven?" Dean asked; his voice quiet.

"They would be the last," Crowley continued, "but they would put up the biggest fight, getting hundreds of thousands of angels killed in the process." His dark eyes peeked up from under heavy lids, "Your daughters and wife, I'm sure, among the fallen."

Dean swallowed hard. "I still don't get why you're taking the time to tell us this. Why do my kids matter to you?"

"You're missing the point, Squirrel," Crowley sighed. "Your offspring really _don't_ matter to me. _I_ matter to me. For some unknown reason, the Winchesters, once again, are the knights in shining armor. It comes down to one thing: if your children die, I do as well."

Sam shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back. "What?"

Dramatically rolling his eyes, Crowley sighed heavily and glared at Sam. "If Lucifer is freed, as so many want him, then I am out of a job and most likely eliminated." Crowley raised his eyebrows. "No sneaking back, this time." He then turned again to Dean. "The only reason I am telling you is for self-preservation. The entire universe would go to the hellhounds if dear old Luci was released and I am first in line for wanting that stopped. I am in charge again down there, or at least I will be once I go down and reintroduce myself. I want to keep it that way. And if keeping Everett Winchester alive and kicking is what I need to get my way, then so it shall be."

Before he had a chance to respond, Dean's phone began to ring from inside his jeans pocket. He closed his mouth, shaking his head and held up a finger as he pulled it from his pocket. "It's Grace," he muttered, sliding the unlock key to answer. "Are you hearing this?" he asked, staring at Crowley.

"Yes," Grace answered; her voice barely a whisper.

Dean held the phone forward, speaking a bit louder. "You're on speaker, Grace," he stated. "Crowley; Grace, Grace; Crowley."

"I remember her well," Crowley purred. "The only one that has ever forced me to leave my body."

"If I could teleport, I would have taken pleasure in doing it again in the parking lot," Grace's voice came through the speaker, steady, but full of rage.

Crowley smiled lightly, tilting his head. "So pleasant," he commented. "Where is your sister? I remember her well…such a fine specimen to contain me."

Sam shot him a warning look, "Hey. Watch it."

Dean held up his hand to Crowley, "Alright," he sighed. "Enough."

"I'm not here to fight, Blondie," Crowley sighed, once again rolling his eyes. "I am here to help protect your children."

Grace clicked her tongue sarcastically, "You're here to protect your own hide."

Crowley didn't argue, but instead smiled lightly. "She has a long range," he added, glancing up at Dean. "I do not disagree with you, but either way, we all win."

Holding the phone closer to his face, Dean took a deep breath and while watching Sam for approval, he shrugged, "This is all a lot to take, Gracie," he began, "but if Crowley is telling the truth; which if his own ass is at stake, he probably is, then we could probably take what he's saying as legit." Sam nodded in agreement and stared at the phone, waiting for Grace to reply.

"Take me off speaker," came Grace's stern reply.

Dean complied and held the phone to his ear, wandering away from Sam and Crowley. "Hey," he whispered to his wife.

"Crowley is alive? And now we're having conversations about our kids with him?"

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I know, but really, are you that surprised?"

"No."

Glancing behind him, Dean sighed. "Make sure you're ready to tackle Serra when she sees him," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "She'll wanna take him apart with her bare hands."

"I'm inclined to let her."

Pressing his teeth together, Dean stared at his car as he struggled to find the words. "I know, Gracie. I would feel the same way, but a lot has changed since then."

In the background, there was a door opening and closing. "Hey, Grace," Dean heard from the distance on the other end.

Taking a quick breath, Grace lowered her voice, "Sabina is home. I didn't hear her approach," she said quickly. "See? That's how upset I am. My telepathy isn't working right." She clicked her tongue again. "We'll talk about this later."

She hung up quickly and Dean sighed as he let his phone slide back into his pocket. Turning, he approached Sam and Crowley once more, running his hands through his hair. "Alright," he sighed, joining the group. "This is going to get weird in a hurry, but you should probably come to the house later so we can talk out a plan."

"The house?" Sam asked; turning to face his brother with his eyebrows lost in his hair.

Dean was already nodding and rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I know," he growled. "Can we figure out a way to de-weaponize the Warrior of Heaven?"

"Drug her?" Sam asked, making a face.

Crowley chuckled. "Serendipity's rage is tough to contend with, but I find it extremely alluring," he answered, squinting in the sunlight.

"Dude," Sam replied, tilting his head.

"Right," Crowley agreed. "Well, if it's going to be butterflies and rainbows, I suggest getting your women compliant. They are what I need to worry about right now."

"Easier said than done," Dean responded under his breath.

"Figure it out," Crowley said simply. "I will be at your quaint little farm house later tonight. You're going to need to take down some of the enchantments so that I may find my way." He smiled mischievously. "Shall I bring anything?"

"A Kevlar vest," Sam replied, his sarcasm not lost on Crowley.

With that, Crowley disappeared on the spot and the Winchester brothers were left, staring at each other.

"This is turning into a weird week," Dean commented as he pivoted on a booted heel and headed back towards the garage. "Gatekeepers, the return of the King of Hell, and a happy meet and greet at my house."

Sam fell into step beside his brother. "How worried should I be about Serra?"

"And her desire to kill Crowley all over again? Pretty worried, but honestly, I wouldn't mind if she succeeded. This guy rubs me all wrong."

Sam held the door open for Dean and followed behind him, "This whole thing rubs me wrong, Dean. He's back? How the hell did he perform a spell powerful enough to bring himself back to the land of the living? And if he didn't do it by himself, who was helping him?"

"I've got no idea," he replied, catching Stu's glare and waving him over. "But more and more, this is sounding like it has everything to do with Holden."

"Holden?" Sam asked. "Holden, Maine?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, keeping his voice down. "You know, where I was shot, my car was destroyed, and my wife was almost murdered?"

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes, "I know," he replied. "I mean, I remember, but how does everything keep coming back to Holden?"

"Because that's the first time we haven't won a fight." Dean looked up at Stuart as he approached. "Stu, call Tony in. I've gotta go."

Stuart stood, staring at Dean and Sam longer than Sam felt comfortable. "Why?" he asked. "It have to do with that bearded asshole that was just here?"

Dean shook his head, not looking up. "Look," he said, still shuffling though paperwork. "There's a lot going on, especially since I got back, but I can't get into it right now. I just need you to take over floor manager for a bit, while I get my life sorted out. Again."

"Dean," Stu began putting his hands on his hips, "as much as I'll like the pay upgrade," Dean glanced up and gave Stu a dangerous look. "Hey, new title, new money," Stu answered. "But I don't want to be a part of something that's gonna force you into a situation you don't wanna be in."

Sam glanced at Dean questioningly, but Dean didn't meet his gaze. "It doesn't have to do with anything you think," Dean replied to his friend. "No drugs, no gambling. Nothing illegal."

"Then what?"

Dean licked his lips and glanced at Sam, who had his eyebrows in his hair again. "You know more than you let on, Stu," he murmured. Stuart didn't move as Dean continued. "Just…I need to know that you're not going to let this shop fail."

Stu stared at Dean for longer than he needed to; his steel blue gaze unblinking. The wrinkles that traced the edges of his mouth and eyes twitched slightly, trying to decide how he was going to reply. Finally, Stuart took a deep breath, "I ain't gonna watch Grace go through that again, Dean."

"Go through wha— " Dean faded off as he realized what Stuart was referring to. Flashes of the demon spell ran through Dean's mind and he forced his eyes shut, chasing away the memories. "No," Dean replied, shaking his head, "it's not like that. She and I are fine. We're together on this."

"If I picked up that phone, would she say the same thing?" Stu asked, gesturing to the shop's house phone. As he pointed, it rang.

Trusting his gut, Dean picked up the receiver and without answering, pressed the speaker button. Grace's voice came through quietly. "Trust us, Stu," she said quietly. "We're working on something big, but we're working on it together."

Stuart's mouth fell open and his salt and peppered mustache seemed to bristle.

"Stuart, please," Grace pleaded. "You have to trust us."

Swallowing hard, Stu closed his mouth and nodded slowly. "After this is all over, Gracie," he whispered, "we're gonna have a very long conversation."

"I know," she replied. "It's overdue."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Castiel leaned against the counter top as his characteristic trench coat hung over the back of the couch, and the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up. His arms were crossed against his chest as he watched Grace prepare dinner. "And you said he's coming here?" Cas shook his head and leaned his head back, trying to process the fact that Crowley was still alive. "Why?"

"He says that he wants to help protect the kids," Grace replied as she took out the baking dish full of chicken. "He's just protecting his own ass, but I feel like he might be telling the truth."

Castiel took a deep breath and waited for Grace to step in front of him, then reached out to her shoulders and stopped her from putting the oven mitts back on the counter. "Grace," he commented quietly. "You have doubts about trusting Crowley. Why aren't you trusting your instincts?"

"I have doubts about Serra's ability to trust Crowley," she corrected, staring into his blue gaze. "I don't have any doubts about him wanting to help keep Everett alive."

Cas released her shoulders and he took a deep breath. "It seems impossible that I could be any more attached to this family, but the nauseated feeling in the pit of my stomach seems to remind me that anything is possible."

"You're just anxious, Cas. It's normal."

Castiel licked his lips and put his hands in his pockets. "It's been since you allowed me to take you as a vessel," he replied. "I was a part of you. I feel the same stress that you feel."

"Don't you think that's normal?"

Shrugging, Cas turned his attention to the front door and waited as boots echoed up the wooden steps. Looking up from the pot of rice on the stovetop, Grace rolled her eyes. "I didn't hear _them_ coming either," she sighed. "What is up with my abilities lately?"

Before Castiel had a chance to answer, the front door opened and Dean walked through the door. "Hey," he greeted, tossing down the backpack he carried and dumping his keys into the tray by the door. "Smells good."

"Yeah, well," Grace responded. "We're having the King of Hell over for dinner, so." She shrugged. "Maybe he'll bring a bottle of wine."

Dean chuckled as he walked around the counter to kiss Grace. "Hey, Cas," he continued, releasing Grace from their hug. "What's the word?"

"We were just discussing that I feel overly anxious about all of this," he replied, reaching to unroll his shirtsleeves. "Because I spent so long inside of her."

Grace furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head slowly, in disbelief. "I'm starting to think you do that on purpose to see what he'll do," she replied. Glancing at her husband, she giggled.

"Sure, keep making the sex jokes," Dean smiled ironically. He turned and opened the fridge to pull out a beer. "One of these days, I'm gonna file for child support for Faith."

"You both are hilarious," Grace said, pulling a wooden spoon out of the drawer. "The kids have been too quiet upstairs. I'm going to go check on them while you stir." She handed the spoon to Castiel and turned towards Dean. "You two play nice."

Dean watched Grace jog up the steps and sighed quietly. "Crowley, huh?" he asked, not really looking for an answer.

Castiel took his job stirring very seriously, but answered the rhetorical question as well. "I am inclined to believe that he wants to keep his position as King, but actually wanting to protect the children…" Cas faded off. "I'm not so sure."

"I know," Dean nodded, taking a drink of his beer. "You been here long?"

"Since Crowley showed at the shop."

Dean nodded again, lapsing into silence. Finally, he took a deep breath through his nose and tilted his head at his friend. "What are we going to do to protect the kids, Cas?"

Without looking up from his pot of rice, Castiel answered, "You're going to let me train them."

Dean took another drink of his beer, closing his eyes as he considered his next words. "Train them?" he finally asked. "Like you trained Grace?"

Pressing his teeth together to stall for time, Cas mulled the words over carefully. "Not quite as rigorously," he answered. "I won't be yelling at them or allowing Serendipity to shoot at them, if that's what you mean."

Dean chuckled, but his tone was still serious. "I know we joke about it, but," Dean swallowed and set his beer on the counter. "If anything ever happened to me, Cas, I need to know that you would be there for Grace and the kids." He made a face and shook his head, "No, I mean," he sighed, trying to find the right words. "I've just got a bad feeling about all this Cas, and when it's all said and done, no one would be able to take care of my kids and my wife better than you could."

Castiel stopped stirring and turned to stare at Dean.

"One of us always needs to be here," Dean finished. "I feel like we're getting ready to go to war. I need to know that you'll take my place if it ever comes to that."

"I could never replace you," Castiel answered. He turned slightly, knowing that Grace was at the top of the steps, listening in on the conversation. "You belong here, with your family, so don't start thinking that this war we seem to be preparing for would separate you from them."

"Just say it, Cas."

"You belong with them."

Dean closed his eyes. "Say it."

Swallowing hard, Castiel nodded. "If anything were ever to happen to you, I would step in. Of course I would."

"Thank you," Dean whispered. Picking up his beer, he drained the last of it as Castiel picked up the wooden spoon and again began to stir.

Silently and elegantly, Grace came down the stairs and joined her husband and her angel in the kitchen. "Is this something we need to talk about?" she asked quietly, referring to the silence that had fallen.

Dean pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"Okay, then," she replied, wiping a renegade blonde strand of hair from her face. "Sam just texted that Serra is on her way home, so we should probably brace for impact."

"You didn't tell her yet?" Dean asked, making a face. "I kinda hoped she would already be through the beginning stages of her rage by the time she got here."

"What, and risk everyone at the hospital?" Grace asked, taking the wooden spoon from Cas. "That just seems irresponsible."

There was a pounding of tiny footsteps as three of the older Winchester children ran down to see their father. "Hi, Daddy," Liberty greeted.

Dean looked towards his oldest daughter and grinned. "Hey, Meatloaf," he replied, scooping her up into his arms. "How was school?"

Liberty shrugged, "I don't really like it," she answered truthfully.

Dean shrugged in reply, "Yeah, well," he sighed. "It's school. No one really does."

"I liked school," Grace argued. "And Uncle Sammy loves school so much that he still goes every day for work."

Chuckling, Dean shook his head. "You two don't count," he said, putting Liberty down. "You're weird." Lib laughed and followed Glory out into the living room. "Hey, Cheese Puff!" Dean lifted his eyebrows towards his middle daughter. "I get no love?"

Glory turned and her face lit up, almost realizing that he was there for the first time. "Hi Daddy!" she squealed. "I not hear you!"

"You didn't hear me?" Dean asked, glancing up at Grace, who shrugged. "What could you have been thinking about to not hear me?"

Glory glanced at Everett, who was beginning to take apart the Duplo Lego house he had built earlier. "Brudder having a hard day. He is being very loud."

Dean walked to the edge of the kitchen and bent down, still holding onto Glory as he spoke quietly to Everett. "Hey, buddy," he said gently. "You okay?"

Everett stared at the Legos in front of him without answering. Grace shook her head slowly towards Dean, warning him to back off a bit and to leave their son alone. "Should I be worried?" Dean asked quietly.

"I don't know. He's been quiet all day," Grace whispered as Dean set Glory down. "The preschool called around ten and told me he wasn't feeling well, but when I got there to pick him up, he was fine."

"And?"

Grace shrugged. "That's around the time Crowley made his appearance, so I'm assuming that had something to do with his mood swing."

Dean nodded slowly, still staring at his son. "Keep an eye out," he muttered. "And get I'm gonna go get Faith down here."

"That's probably for the best."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Dean and Grace decided to attempt to have a family meal before the conversation with Crowley began and Sam had taken the job of attempting to break the news and soothe Serra before he arrived. They had yet to hear any explosions since Grace saw Serra's truck drive up the gravel path towards the Small House, so she assumed everything was going according to plan thus far.

"Ev, you want some more chicken?" Grace asked as she piled another spoonful of rice onto Glory's plate. "Or rice?"

Everett shook his head slowly, not looking up at his mother. "No, thank you," he answered quietly. "Can you move Faith closer please?"

"Do you want to sit in my lap, baby?" Grace asked, glancing at her husband. "It's okay. We're safe. You're safe." Slowly, Everett climbed down from his chair next to Dean and walked towards his mother. She picked him up and pulled him closer, pressing her cheek to his. "There," she said as he sighed quietly. "That better?" He nodded slowly, closing his eyes as he felt the pain in his tiny Mark of Cain lessen.

Sabina watched the exchange and sighed quietly. "Why are you upset, Everett?" she asked. "You were fine this afternoon."

He turned to stare at her and furrowed his blond eyebrows. "I don't want to talk to you," Everett muttered. "You are lying."

"Everett," Grace scolded. "Don't talk to her like that."

Automatically, Everett turned towards Grace's chest, hiding his face, as she stared up at Dean, who narrowed his eyes. Dean glanced at Sabina, who's face reddened in embarrassment. "There something to that?" he asked, tilting his head at her reaction.

"What?" Sabina asked, staring intently at her food. "No. Of course not."

"You are!" Everett shouted into Grace's shirt, avoiding his father's gaze.

Liberty and Glory were on their feet with Everett's reaction, ready for anything, simply out of reflex, though Everett's tantrums had been minimal since Faith had been born. Dean followed suit, staring at Sabina, but speaking to his daughters. "Upstairs," he whispered. "I'll talk to you two in a minute."

Not wasting time, Liberty and Glory jogged up the steps and headed towards Libby's room at the end of the hall, leaving Faith, Sabina, and Grace wide-eyed at the table. "Everett," Grace soothed quietly. "What's going on? Can you tell me what you're talking about?"

"She's lying," he repeated, still refusing to turn around. "She's not our Sabina anymore."

Dean turned towards the girl sitting at the family's dining room table. "What is he talking about?" he asked. "Seems like Grace or Cas would have caught a possession."

"I'm not possessed," Sabina finally replied, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"So something is happening?" Dean asked, moving between Sabina and his wife and child. "Spill. Now."

Sabina closed her eyes, forcing a tear down her face. "They're…they started out as dreams," she sobbed. "But now, I can hear her in my head, trying to get me to do things I don't want to do. It's why I haven't been in the house…why I won't go to the shop or play with the kids anymore." Sabina looked up at Grace, hoping to see the kind expression she so often had for the teenager, but at the moment, Grace's blue eyes were steel and her face was stoic. "I haven't been lying to you. I just haven't been telling the truth."

"There's not much of a difference," Dean growled. "Jesus," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your sister's gonna have an aneurism tonight."

"Wait," Grace said, holding up a hand, still staring at Sabina. "What are you talking about, a voice?" She glanced at Dean. "Wouldn't you think I would have been able to hear something like that?"

Dean turned to stare at Sabina once more, "When did this all start?" he asked. "Since Holden?"

Sabina nodded.

"You can't hear the mystery voice because it's probably a spell," Dean replied, pacing around the room near Grace and Everett. "Fucking Holden."

"Wait," Grace whispered, holding up her free hand. "Wait. Who is this voice? What is she saying?"

"I don't know who she is, but sometimes I feel like I don't have control of my own body," Sabina held her face in her hands, speaking through her fingers. "I don't even know what she wants yet, but I kind of feel like I remember her."

Suddenly, the back door burst open and Serendipity came bursting through, holding both of her silver-on-black, specialty engraved Colt forty-five pistols, one in each hand. "Where is he?" she shouted. "He here yet?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean answered, holding up his hands. "Pump the brakes. Crowley's not here yet." He gestured towards Sabina and raised his eyebrows. "We're dealing with something else, here."

Serra pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows; her hazel eyes a little wild. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

Grace was attempting to stand, still clutching Everett. "Stop," she was saying, holding out her hand, and the air pulsed with Grace's abilities. "Just stop. Everyone take a step back. He's on the edge," she gestured at Everett, "you're packing, and everyone is much too emotional right now to deal with reality."

"What's wrong with Everett?" Serra gasped, taking a step towards her nephew. "What's going on?"

"Stop," Grace held up her hand and the air around every person in the room shimmered. Serra was in mid-step, but couldn't seem to complete the gesture, Dean held his place at the table, and Sabina continued to sit with her hands covering her face. "Everyone just stop."

Taking a deep breath, now that she had a minute to think, Grace stared at her sister, still frozen in time. Reaching over and dropping the clips out of both of her guns, Grace also pushed the slide back, forcing both of Serra's guns to discharge the bullets in the barrels. Serendipity would be pissed, but at least at the end of the conversation, everyone would still be alive.

"Momma," Everett whispered. "How did you do that?"

"I can do all kinds of stuff now, baby," Grace whispered back. "Uncle Cas taught me. Soon, he's going to teach you and your sisters. We all need to learn how to protect ourselves, now. Things are changing."

Everett nodded slowly as Grace put him on the floor, standing next to Serra. He glanced up at his aunt, watching her, as she stood frozen in front of him. "How long will she stay like that?"

Grace picked up the fallen bullets and clips, putting them in her pockets as she smiled at her son. "For as long as I want her to," she replied. She tilted her head towards her sister. "Just be ready, buddy. She's going to be very unhappy when I let her go."

Smiling mischievously, Everett nodded as he stepped behind his mother. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, closing her eyes and holding up her arms. "Okay, everyone," she began. "Let's start over."

"Mother fucking fuck," Serra breathed as Grace lowered her arms. "What the hell, Grace?"

"We all need to take a step back," she replied, lowering her hands. "One thing at a time."

Dean turned to face his wife and furrowed his eyebrows. "Did you just stop time?" he asked. "I could hear you and think on my own, but couldn't move?"

"Yeah, I did it for everyone's own good," Grace answered, blocking Sabina's move to exit the kitchen. "We're going to sit here, and you're going to start from the beginning. You," she continued, pointing to her sister, "are going to listen without shooting anyone and when Crowley gets here, you are going to leave him alive long enough to explain how to help the kids."

"But I— " Serra whined.

"No. No shooting, no blades, no hand-stamped demon Weapons Stone bullets," Grace answered with finality. "That's it."

Glancing down at her guns, Serra saw that both clips were gone and the slide was pushed all the way back. "How did you—" Serra asked, still staring at her weapons. "Cheater!"

"You can have your bullets back when you go home. Sit." Grace pointed to the chair in front of her sister and rolling her eyes, Serendipity sat, tossing her empty guns on the pile of newspapers that sat on the table. "Now," Grace took a breath and turned her attention back to Sabina. "What are you hearing?"

"It's not so much what I'm hearing as much as what I'm experiencing," Sabina began slowly. "I feel like I'm watching old memories."

"Memories," Grace repeated, glancing at Dean. "Show me."

Sabina looked confused, but then seemed to remember that Grace could read her mind. Closing her eyes and taking a breath, Sabina tried her best to think of the most recent dreams. Grace followed suit, closing her own eyes and watching Sabina's subconscious weave through her mind.

Seconds passed, then minutes, and finally, it was Everett that broke the silence. "That's her, Momma," he whispered, staring past Dean at nothing. "I see her too."

Every adult in the room turned to stare at the four-year-old in shock, their mouths hanging open. "You see her?" Dean asked quietly. "You see who?"

Everett's bright blue eyes found his father's gaze and without emotion, he replied, "Delilah."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"What did you _say_?" Liberty whispered as her brother joined her silently in her room. Together, they crawled into the blanket fort that Glory, Liberty, and Levi had built the day before. "Momma is scared. Can you feel her?"

Everett remained silent, but shrugged. "Momma is scared a lot. She just hides it from us. She keeps saying that she's going to train us with Uncle Cas, but that hasn't happened yet."

"It doesn't mean anything. We're a big family. It's hard to get everything done on time," Liberty whispered. "I _told_ you to tell Momma about that woman. Listen to them," she continued. "Now they're mad."

Crawling on all fours, Glory came across the carpet in Liberty's room and joined her siblings in the blanket fort. "Why is Daddy mad?" she asked, whispering as well.

"Because Ev didn't tell them about Delilah sooner," Liberty replied, rolling her eyes. "Sabina is finally starting to tell the truth, but Everett was a big fat dummy and told Momma that he sees her too." Liberty turned towards her brother. "If you were going to tell them, you should have told them when it first happened. They hate when we hold secrets."

The elder Winchester children lapsed into silence as they strained to hear their parents and aunt discuss what to do next.

"—doesn't mean anything. They could just be dreams," Dean was saying in hushed tones, thinking he would be able to hide his thoughts from his children. "We talk about a lot in front of them. Maybe he just picked something up." He paused, trying to convince himself as well.

"That doesn't explain how he knows her name," Grace argued. "I mean, who is Delilah? And how does our four year old son know a name like that?"

"She's a witch," Sabina answered.

"She's a witch?" Serra repeated. "Dude, a few months ago, you didn't even know for sure that this stuff existed; now you're claiming you know who she is? Where the hell do you get off?"

"Sere," Grace muttered, warning.

"No," Serra argued. "I'm sick of this shit. I told you from the beginning that I didn't want her in this house. I never trusted her." Liberty glanced at Glory, who exchanged a worried look with her sister. Their aunt sounded very angry. "And now she's having dreams that share a character with Everett; the Mini Mark of Cain? Give me back my bullets. I'm gonna shoot her."

"Stop," Grace shouted, slamming her hand down on the table. "No one is shooting anyone. Yes, Ev is seeing this person, but we don't know enough information to start killing people."

There was a long pause from the adults as they seemed to consider their options. Finally, very quietly, Sabina's voice carried through the house. "I think she's connected to me somehow, but I don't understand why. Since we got back from Holden, she's all I've been able to think about."

"So who the hell is Delilah?" Dean asked, running his hands through his hair. "Why is she finding her way into Everett's brain?"

Liberty turned towards her brother and took a deep breath. "We need to tell them everything," she whispered. "We can't keep hiding stuff from Momma and Daddy. They're going to find out sometime and I don't want to get in trouble. Momma will hear us eventually."

Everett was already shaking his head. "Momma doesn't hear _everything_ ," he answered, narrowing his eyes. "And she lies to us all the time."

"She does not!" Glory argued.

"She does," Everett finalized. "Just because she tells us what we want to hear doesn't mean she's telling us the truth. Can't you hear her when she thinks?"

Glory and Liberty nodded slowly.

"And does she tell us everything?"

The girls shook their heads just as slowly.

Everett leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms. "Delilah doesn't lie to me," he declared. "She always tells me the truth, even if it's bad."

Glory's voice was small as she replied, "You shouldn't be talking to that bad lady, Everett," she commented.

"You don't tell me what to do," Everett spat and turned away from his twin sister.

From her room, Faith let out a sad wail and from downstairs, Grace stood from her chair and said, "Faith needs to be changed. Try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

The children listened to their mother's footsteps as she climbed the steps. She hesitated at the top stair and listened for her children before she continued to Faith's room.

"She knows you're lying about something," Liberty whispered. "Call her in and tell her the truth."

Everett's eyes filled with tears as he shook his head. "I can't," he answered. "Delilah will be mad."

Liberty leaned into his face, "As mad as Auntie Lucky would be if we didn't say anything and they found out on their own?"

Pressing his lips together, Everett shook his head.

"Momma!" Liberty called, breaking the silence. "Everett wants to tell you something!"

Grace's footsteps paused in Faith's room, scooping up her youngest daughter and carrying her against her hip. "Hold on a sec, Ev!" she shouted. "I have to change Faith."

"Go in there," Libby pressed. "Just go into Faith's room and start talking. You'll feel so much better."

Everett began to cry. "What will Delilah do? She's gonna be so mad."

"Daddy will protect us. Auntie and Momma will too. Nothing is going to happen to us." Liberty physically pushed Everett out of the blanket fort. "Go."

Slowly, Everett padded down the hall towards his baby sister's room. Glory and Liberty stood at the end of the hall, watching carefully from Liberty's bedroom door. When Everett looked back towards the girls, they both gestured to him to keep moving. He took a deep breath and continued his journey.

"Momma?" Everett whispered from the doorway of Faith's room.

"Hi baby," Grace turned and smiled while changing Faith's diaper. "What's going on in there? You guys are whispering a lot."

Everett nodded slowly, moving towards his mother, wringing his hands together as he walked. "There's something…"

Grace turned, finally finished changing the baby, and set her on the carpet next to her brother. Taking a deep breath and pressing her lips together, Grace sat down next to her children and sighed. "What aren't you telling me, Ev?" she asked gently. She reached out carefully towards her son's arm and rested her palm on his skin. It was warm to the touch and almost getting warmer by the second. Grace flicked her blue gaze to meet Everett's.

"Everett, you're safe," Grace repeated the mantra that she had been saying all of her son's life. "You can tell me. What's happening?"

Faith seemed to understand that Everett was frustrated. She turned towards her brother, crawled towards him, and pushed herself into his lap. Immediately, Everett's body language shifted and he took a deep breath, calming down. The baby leaned into his chest and placed her chubby hands on his arm where Grace knew there was a genetic Mark of Cain that would show its ugly face if pushed.

"The lady that Sabina is talking about? Delilah?" Everett began, "I know her because she talks to me, too."

Grace felt the cold panic surge through her chest but without changing her facial expression, she took a deep breath and asked, "What does she talk to you about?"

"That I have powers too. That I'm special and that she would take good care of me."

Swallowing hard, Grace closed her eyes, but remained outwardly calm. "Ev," she whispered. "That woman…I don't know for sure who she is, but me and Daddy think that we fought her in Holden. She's not a nice lady."

"She's nice to me."

"Only because she wants something from you," Grace answered. She reached out to Everett's hands and took them in both of her own. "Baby, you and your sisters are very special. There are going to be a lot of people from now on that will want to take you away from us, but we would never let that happen."

Everett glanced up at his mother. "Why would they do that?"

"Because…" Grace faded away, trying to think of a way to convince Everett without telling him everything. Suddenly, Castiel appeared in the bedroom, his trench coat swinging next to Grace as she sat on the carpet.

He took a deep breath and in a quiet voice, Castiel spoke to Grace, "Tell him."

Grace didn't look up, but closed her eyes and steadied herself. "I don't know if he's ready, Cas," she replied.

" _If you don't tell him, Delilah will take it upon herself to begin telling him everything, making herself out to be the hero. He will learn to trust her because she provides information that you do not_ ," Castiel answered, pushing his thoughts into Grace's mind, away from Everett's thoughts. " _You need to start including them in the conversation about their Destiny. If you know, your children need to as well."_

 _"_ _Cas, they're kids. Cosmic truth about their future? You really think they're ready to process stuff like this?"_

Castiel turned slightly towards Everett and nodded slowly. "I do," he said aloud, his voice hushed.

Grace took a steadying breath. "Okay, kiddo. Why don't you and your sisters come downstairs?" Grace asked quietly. "We'll start share time."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The Winchester children were gathered around the dining room table and waiting patiently for their parents to address them. Everett seemed calmer, and Liberty and Glory were happily munching on carrots and grinned as their uncle opened the back door and came in, carrying their two cousins.

"Hi, Uncle Sammy!" Liberty shouted from her place at the table. "We're having a family meeting!"

Sam glanced up at his brother and lifted his eyebrows. "So I've heard," he replied, setting Levi down and switching Charlotte's placement on his hip. "It's a busy night."

Sabina sat silently in the corner of the living room, her arms folded in front of her as she tried to disappear into the couch cushions. Serendipity was pacing around the dining room like a caged animal, alternating between thumbing the safety of her pistols on and off and twirling the gun in her right hand. Dean was leaning against the counter, watching his children carefully, his arms crossed in front of his chest, forcing the blue flannel to tug at his biceps. Sam watched the entire situation carefully, taking slow, measured breaths as Grace ran her hands through her long, blonde hair and turned to face her audience.

"Okay," she began, taking a deep breath and glancing at her husband. "You're all getting older now and we're really trying to stop making the same mistakes our parents made. We want to keep you all in the loop."

"Only because I knew Delilah's name," Everett replied, crossing his arms and mirroring his father's expression.

Grace began shaking her head and bent down towards her son. "That may have been what finally made our decision, kiddo, but," Grace glanced up at Dean and Cas, who watched quietly, standing now almost shoulder to shoulder.

"But we've been telling you what we knew in a way that you'd understand for the last couple of months," Dean finished. "You know you have abilities. You know that Momma has the same type of abilities and that she and Uncle Cas have been training together." The Winchester children nodded slowly. "But this new stuff…" Dean sighed and uncrossed his arms. "This new stuff is big and we didn't find out until this morning. A lot is happening all at once."

Serra flicked the safety of her pistols off again. Grace tossed her sister a warning glance, trying her hardest to stay focused. "You have destinies," Grace said quietly, still touching Everett's hand, but standing to her full height. "A purpose for your abilities."

After a minute of silence, Liberty was the first to speak. "Why?" she asked quietly.

Dean and Grace turned to stare at each other, completely at a loss for words. From behind the island counter, Sam stepped forward and took a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. "Because," he sighed, "this family was brought together to keep the world safe. Your dad and I have been doing it since long before you were born. Your mom and Aunt Lucky have been, too." He glanced at Grace, asking permission to continue. She nodded, grateful. "When we found each other, the stars aligned and everything came together. We just didn't know it then."

"Aunt Lucky is a Warrior of Heaven," Grace took over the story. "Daddy and Uncle Sammy are Archangel Vessels. I'm Nephilim," Grace took a ragged breath and lifted her eyebrows, trying to control her emotions. "We all came together to make you six."

"Wait," Levi held up his hand, speaking for the first time during the discussion. "Us six?" He looked at his cousins. "I thought this was only about them."

"We thought so, too," Sam continued quietly. "And we're not positive on your roles, but we think that being a Warrior of Heaven or a vessel is genetic. There's a big possibility that you're one or both, buddy."

Levi creased his dark eyebrows together, looking too much like his mother. He glanced at Liberty, who shrugged, but turned back to the adults, waiting to hear more.

Castiel remained silent as he watched Grace continue. She moved with elegance as she always did, more angelic than human, but her sparkle was gone. She looked worn and beaten down, hating to explain to the children what they were and who they were going to be. It concerned him that she appeared dull. Glancing at his best friend, Cas took a deep breath and nodded at Dean when they made eye contact. Dean appeared just as Grace did; broken somehow. Momentarily, he wondered what he would be able to do to rectify the situation.

"You already know that Heaven is real," Grace continued, speaking mostly to her own offspring. "But so are places like Hell and Purgatory."

"You were taken there," Liberty said quietly, her green eyes finding Grace's blue gaze. "To Hell."

Serra stopped pacing long enough to turn and stare at her sister, momentarily reliving the time they were held hostage in Hell by the demon named Dekar. Liberty had been young; too young, Serra believed, to remember the terror the Winchester family went through during that time, but it appeared her niece was full of surprises.

Grace nodded slowly. "Do you remember?" she asked.

"I remember you being gone," Libby answered. "I remember Daddy being scared and really mad. I remember Auntie Luck being very sad. I remember you going to Heaven to get Uncle Sammy."

All six of the Winchester children turned their heads in tandem to stare at Sam. It would have been comical if the subject matter hadn't been so serious.

Grace nodded. "Yes, Cas and I went to get him. It wasn't his time."

Serra licked her lips and leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling as she masked the tears that flooded her eyes. As she regained control, her sister continued.

"Each event that has happened to this family seems to be related to what all of you are destined to be," Grace explained quietly. "That doesn't mean any of it is your fault…it just means that other people…evil people, want in on what you can do."

"What can we do?" Liberty asked. "What is it they want?"

"They want control of the Gates."

The kids turned to glance at each other confusedly. The only one that didn't look like he was receiving brand new information was Everett. He simply stared, blinking his blue eyes occasionally. Grace took a deep breath, knowing that Delilah had somehow supplied her son with this information previously. She had to work quickly if she wanted to regain her son's trust.

"You look like you know what I'm talking about, Ev," Grace whispered. "What do you already know?"

He let out a lungful of air and uncrossed his arms, trying but failing to stay angry at his mother. "De—that woman told me that I was a Gatekeeper and that I would be very important when she and the others were going to take over the Gates. She—she wants me to help her by being her friend."

Serra clicked the safety of her guns again.

"You tell me like you're embarrassed," Grace whispered. "That tells me that you know she's bad."

Everett nodded slowly.

"Then why didn't you tell me or Daddy or Luck or Sam about her, Ev? You have so many people here that love you and want to protect you."

Everett looked angry again. "Because you don't tell me the truth! You don't tell us anything!"

"Because you are too young to have to deal with this, baby," Grace answered, moving closer towards Everett. "You're still so small. These problems are so big. It's all so unfair."

Liberty shifted in her seat, looking from her mother to her brother and back again. "Momma," she began, "what is a Gatekeeper?"

Castiel stepped forward after Dean nodded his permission. "A Gatekeeper has a very important job, Liberty," he began. "They ensure that what is behind the Gate stays behind the Gate and that nothing can enter than would threaten them. Hell, Purgatory, Earth, and Heaven all have Gates, but they have been without Keepers for millennia. Now," he spread his arms wide, "a nephilim mother and an archangel father have come together to produce the next group of Gatekeepers. Human emotion and instinct tucked into angelic vessels. You four are linked for life, not just through your relationship as siblings, but cosmically as well."

Liberty, Levi, and Glory's mouths hung open, trying to absorb the words from Castiel, but Everett stared, completely at ease. It seemed he was hearing what he already knew.

"And what about them?" Glory asked, pointing to Levi across the table and Charlie, who sat quietly in the highchair across the way. "They're not Gatekeepers? What do they do?"

"There are only four Gates, Cheese Puff," Dean answered quietly. "You four are the lucky ones this time. We're thinking," he glanced at his brother and licked his lips. "We're thinking that Lee and Charlie are Warriors, too, like Auntie Luck, which means they're probably going to be protecting you."

"Why do we need protecting?" Liberty asked, leaning forward.

Castiel tilted his head. "Guarding the Gates is not something to be taken lightly, Liberty. You will have trained abilities once your mother and I finish teaching you to master your skills, but there will always be a threat to the Gates. Someone will always be fighting to get in or take over."

"That is the truth," a voice said from the shadows of the living room, his vowels rounded by his accent. "My, my, my," Crowley stepped into the light from the kitchen. "Look how they've grown."

"You sonuvabitch," Serendipity spat, lunging at Crowley, still clutching her guns.

Grace and Castiel held up their right hand in tandem, holding Serra in place. "Whoa," Grace answered, keeping hold of her sister. "Not so fast. Let's just hear what he has to say and we'll go from there."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Serra, unable to move, simply flicked her hazel gaze towards her husband. "Did you freeze her?" Sam asked, staring at Serra with his eyebrows in his hairline. "That seems really dangerous."

Grace clicked her tongue and glanced at Sammy, lowering her hand, "If she could control her impulses a bit more, I would trust her enough not to take her bullets away."

Glaring at her sister, Serra remained motionless. "If I let you go," Grace spoke quietly, "you stay where you are. You calm the hell down and we deal with this like adults."

 _This is literally the meanest thing you have ever done to me,_ Serra's voice echoed through Grace's mind as she communicated telepathically.

"Are you going to behave or not?" Grace asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Everyone in the room turned their heads to stare at Grace as she spoke, then, realizing that she was talking to Serendipity, they pivoted their attention to her.

 _I am gonna have to shoot something by the end of the night. All this contained rage can't be good for me._

 _You can't shoot them,_ Grace answered, sighing heavily. _And if that changes, you can be the first in line._

Serra's hazel gaze flicked from Sabina to Crowley and then finally, back to Grace. She sighed heavily out of her nose and finally relented. _Fine, but I'm gonna take this moment right now to remind you that I wanted to shoot Sabina from the beginning. This is your fault._

Grace rolled her eyes, _Noted. Are you done?_

 _Fine._

The air around Serra shimmered as Grace released the hold she had on her sister. Slowly, Serra turned and tilted her head, still furious. "Alright, show's over. Can we get down to business so I can decide who I'm gonna shoot first?"

"Serra," Grace warned. "Enough."

Throwing herself down on the couch across from Sabina, Serra crossed her arms, still holding onto both of her guns. She looked away from Grace and Sam, staring at the television's blank screen.

"Am I interrupting a family disagreement?" Crowley asked, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

"Shut up," Grace growled, sitting down between her two eldest daughters. "You're here for a reason. Start talking or I give her back her bullets."

Crowley clicked his tongue and raised one of his eyebrows, straightening his tie, and taking a step forward. "Things have changed so much," he began, shaking his head sadly. "It wasn't long ago that a guest would be offered a refreshment upon entry as a guest in someone's home. I suppose the Winchesters haven't exactly learned how to be hospitable."

"Oh my God," Serra groaned. "This. This is why I wanted to shoot him."

Dean stepped forward, blocking Serra's line of sight to Crowley. "You wanted to come to see if we could come up with some kind of plan together. You're here now, pissin' everyone off, so let's get to it. Who are you working with?"

"I work alone," Crowley answered, picking delicately at the cuticle of his pinky nail. "You know that."

"Alright," Dean continued. "Who brought you back? Who is it you're talking about that wants to take out Hell's Gate?"

A devilish grin spread slowly across Crowley's mouth. "Now, you're starting to ask the right questions," he answered, stepping forward. His gaze moved carefully to Everett's face and he raised his eyebrows. "Her name, as you already know, thanks to your son, is Delilah. She is an witch that I had the pleasure of managing in the late nineteenth century."

"Is that what they called it then?" Serra spat from her place on the couch.

"Not completely," Crowley answered, smiling serenely. "I did have an interest in her…and she was very useful then, but now," he sighed and put his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "She's outlived her usefulness. Delilah is convinced that we need to see Lucifer take his place on the throne as the King of Hell. Always looking for the bigger power trip, that one."

"And you don't?" Grace asked, doubtful.

"Of course I do," Crowley agreed, "but when it comes to the Angel of Light, I like him right where he is. Lucifer taking power would mean the destruction of the rest of us, wings or not. He doesn't give a damn if any of us live or die, he just wants to punish Him."

"Punish who?" Sam asked, stepping forward and tilting his head.

Crowley smiled at Sam, almost realizing he was there for the first time. "Punish God," Crowley answered. "The two have a very obvious, long-winded family feud that I would much rather avoid. The last time they hashed it out, I lost a perfectly good pair of Florentine leather shoes and a Hellhound that I spent a lot of time training."

"You're worried about shoes and a Hellhound?" Grace asked. "Are you for real?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I forget how literal the Winchesters are. You would think that someone that married into this rabble would have a better sense of humor."

"Here, Sere," Grace said, holding a bullet in the palm of her hand out towards the couch. "You can shoot him now."

Serra was on her feet in seconds, dashing towards her sister, but Sam stepped into her path. "Knock it off, the both of you," Sam answered, facing Crowley. "I know, we get it. You're looking out for number one. That doesn't make us want to help you any more than it did this afternoon."

"As much as I hate to admit it, your products of procreation need to be in place to keep Delilah and her other thugs at bay. The idea of Lucifer taking over isn't just an inconvenience, it would be the end of the world as all of you human and angelic beings know it." Crowley turned in Dean and Sabina's direction. "I know you've dealt with the end of the world before, but this wouldn't be The End. This would be the beginning of a tyrannical reign that not even I would want to live in. Your children need to take their place as Gatekeepers and be trained to use their abilities. Delilah needs to be put back into the cauldron she crawled out of, and I need to step back into the throne I am used to." Crowley took a deep breath. "That's why I've decided to help train them."

"Decided—"

"—help train?" Grace and Dean spoke at the same time and glanced at each other. "What the hell makes you think that you're going to be anywhere _near_ my kids?" Dean added. "Give her a bullet. She can shoot him."

Serra clapped once and held out her hand.

Castiel stepped forward, moving between Dean and Liberty, blocking their view of Crowley. "There is something to his idea," Cas began quietly.

"Whose side are you on?" Serra asked, whipping her head around to face Castiel. "He's not helping train anyone."

Nodding slowly, but furrowing his eyebrows, Castiel continued. "Though Crowley is a bottom dwelling demon for which Heaven has only ill will, he will know things about Delilah and the entirety of Hell that we know nothing about. He will definitely add some advantages that we would otherwise have no idea about."

"You're agreeing with him?" Grace asked, turning to face the angel. "You do realize that he possessed Serra and almost killed her, right?"

Crowley winked at Serendipity, spurring her into attempting to fight her way through her husband and brother-in-law. "I don't need bullets," she grunted as Sam held her across the abdomen. "I'll just tear him apart with my hands."

"You'll ruin your nails," Sam whispered. "Calm down. Just wait."

Turning towards Castiel and Grace, Crowley nodded. "Feathers is right," he grinned. "I know Hell like I know my exquisite collection of designer ties. Delilah has no idea that I am not completely on her side and we will have the advantage. Once we take out Delilah and the witches from her Grand Coven, we can go back to trying to kill each other."

"Promises, promises," Serra grumbled as Sam continued to restrain her.

Grace took a deep breath and turned to face Dean. Without looking at Crowley, she asked, "I know you're only looking out for you," her blue gaze flicked to the demon standing in her living room, "but if you're helping train my kids, that means you're going to have to pledge some kind of loyalty to us."

"We can all clasp hands and sing _Kumbaya_ later, if you'd like," Crowley purred. Serra lunged again, but Crowley chuckled instead, stepping backwards towards the darkness of the living room. "I'll be in touch." With that, Crowley disappeared and Grace whipped around to face Dean, Castiel, Sam and Serra.

"I'm gonna kill that guy," she whispered.

Serra straightened her tank top as Sam finally released her. "Not if I get to him first," she muttered towards her sister. "Now give me back my goddamn bullets."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The girls had fallen asleep hours ago, but Everett stayed alert long after Crowley's visit, listening and occasionally participating in the conversations with the adults that followed. Levi and Charlotte slept soundly at Everett's feet on the floor near the couch, snoring softly.

"I feel like we've had this talk about Delilah before," Grace was saying, staring at the ceiling. "It feels like one of the kids had a dream about her before we even went to Holden."

Everett took a deep breath. "Libby did," he answered, gesturing to his older sister. "She dreamed about a woman with red hair that attacked Daddy."

Dean and Grace turned to face their son, recognition hitting Dean. "I remember," he answered quietly. "She had a couple of nightmares about her. We didn't know who it was, then."

"That was her," Everett answered, sounding older than he was. "I started to dream about her after Libby stopped."

Castiel glanced at Grace, lifting his eyebrows. "Liberty is the Gatekeeper to Purgatory," he began. "She may have realized that Liberty would not be useful for her plan."

Serra furrowed her eyebrows, "Lib is Purgatory's Gatekeeper?" Serra's expression fell, almost as if she was saddened by this new information.

"Who is who?" Grace asked, turning towards Castiel.

Cas seemed to hesitate, taking a deep breath and rolling his head from side to side. "You can probably figure out the other two," he sighed. "Liberty and Everett are not the only ones with Marks of Cain."

"Of course they're not," Dean sat down in the chair behind him, running a hand through his hair. "We haven't seen Glory's yet. Why?"

"She's never had a reason to show it," Grace replied. "Glory lives in the middle of her sibling's power and has never really needed to show any abilities. I have always wondered if he got the brunt of power," she said, gesturing at her son. "Does Glory use any powers when you're together?" Grace asked Everett. "Have you ever seen her with a Mark like yours?"

Everett considered his memories and shook his head slowly. "I don't think so," he answered. "But it's hard to remember. We think at each other all the time."

"You and Lib? Or you and Glory?"

"Me and Glory."

Grace pursed her lips and nodded. Glancing back at the group of adults, she shrugged. "Ev has always been our focus. Sometimes I forget that they're twins."

Sam spoke up for the first time in hours. He took a ragged breath and ran his hands through his hair, weighing his words carefully. Dean turned slowly to face his brother, waiting for him to speak. Quietly he said, "Go back to Lib being Purgatory's Gatekeeper," he turned to Cas. "We know Everett is Hell's and Lib's Purgatory's, so what, Glory is Earth's and Faith is Heaven's?"

Castiel nodded silently. "I can almost guarantee that is correct," he answered. "I first considered the possibility when Faith made it into Heaven so easily when she went into hiding after Ouriel attempted to destroy her." He sighed and looked sadly at Grace, "The only place left for Glory is Earth."

Grace made a face and closed her eyes, forcing a tear down her cheek. "This is a lot to handle," she whispered. Reaching out tenderly, Castiel rubbed her back in a very human motion. Dean licked his lips and stared at the ground, very aware of their touch, but fighting the jealousy he felt. Hearing his thoughts, Grace flicked her eyes towards her husband and smiled softly, trying to comfort him from across the room.

Unaware of their interaction, Sam stood and walked towards Everett, kneeling down in front of the child. "What else did Delilah tell you?"

Everett glanced at his mother, begging permission to speak. She nodded slowly and lifted her eyebrows, encouraging him on. "She said that I was important. More important than Libby and Glory and Faith," he took a sniffling breath, trying to find the words he wanted. Grace reached over to her son, taking his hand in hers as he continued quietly. "I don't want to be a Gatekeeper. I don't want to leave."

Grace was on her knees in front of Everett in a heartbeat, holding Everett's hands in both of her own as she whispered, "Everett, baby, you don't have to leave. You're safe here. We won't let her near you."

"But to be a Gatekeeper, I have to leave."

"When you're old enough. When you learn a bit more about life," Grace controlled the emotions that pushed at her control. "It's not time yet, baby."

Everett glanced at his uncle and then stared up at his father as he took a breath. "She told me that if she teached me, I would be able to do whatever I wanted. I would be able to take more than one Gate."

Dean's mouth opened slowly, realization dawning on him for the first time. Grace turned with tears shining in her blue eyes and shook her head once; warning him not to say aloud what every adult in the room was now thinking.

Delilah was planning on Everett eventually killing his own siblings.

…

"He's asleep," Grace whispered as she walked back down the steps. Exhaustion tugged at her mind, begging for relief, but she picked up the bottle of water, took a drink, and sat back down at her spot at the dining room table. "They're all asleep."

Sabina still sat on the couch with her arms crossed, mostly because Serendipity had not allowed her to leave the room. "If you think we're done with your conversation," Serra had warned after Crowley had disappeared, "you're wrong. Sit your ass down and stay put."

Pacing the perimeter of the living room, Serra still gripped one of her guns in her right hand, flicking the safety on and off repeatedly. Occasionally, she would dip close to the window in the front of the living room, glancing out onto the dirt road that led to the Big House suspiciously.

As she neared the window again, Dean sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Serra, you're driving me out of my goddamn mind. Sit down and stay still for ten minutes."

Serra spun on the toe of her boot and spread her arms wide. "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm a Warrior of Fucking Heaven, I can't exactly help it. Apparently, I'm warrior-ing right now, protecting your friggin' family from the powers that be!"

"Your gun isn't even loaded. Knock it off," Dean sighed dramatically. "You pacing around isn't doing anything but pissing me off. You've gotta stop so I can just think for a minute," Dean slammed the drawer that he was digging though closed and stared up at his sister-in-law, his face flushing with anger.

"Think? You want a minute to think?" Serra whipped around, pointing to the window. "We don't have a minute to think. We need to get out there and hunt that bitch down!"

Grace snapped to get her sister's attention. "Serra, stop. We don't have any idea where she is or how to kill her. We need a minute to just get our bearings. We're going to need _more_ than a minute."

"We're gonna need a few months," Sam agreed. "The kids need to be trained. Extra precautions need to be laid out around the property. We need to replace the enchantments we had around this place when we fought the angels the first time." Sam tilted his head at his wife's reaction. "Serra, be real. We're going to war. Wars aren't fought impulsively, not if you plan on winning."

Serra grit her teeth and let out a shriek of frustration, "I _need_ to shoot something. I hate her," she gestured vaguely to Sabina with her forty-five as she watched the exchange. "Can I shoot her?"

Grace, Dean, and Sam all shook their heads slowly. "No, Sere, you can't shoot the teenager," Grace answered. "We need to find out who she is first."

"Yeah," Sam added, turning to stare at Sabina. "So who are you?"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Just try to relax," Castiel said quietly as he approached Sabina. Grace stood at his elbow, watching intently and hoping to learn how find memories in others' minds the same way the angel was about to. Speaking to her, Cas turned his head slightly and explained, "When you attempt to retrieve memories, you can't force your way through the mind's natural protective nature." Grace listened quietly, observing Castiel's movements with interest. "You can suggest to the mind to draw upon its own memories. The human mind, whether it knows it or not, can remember everything. It's your own subconscious that pushes the memories away."

Castiel approached Sabina slowly, his palms towards her forehead. "I won't hurt you," Cas commented, "but I assure you, if something goes wrong, or you resist me, one of _them_ will."

"Me. I will hurt you," Serra commented from her place across the room. "And I'll probably enjoy it."

"You sound like a psychopath," Dean answered.

"You sound like an asshole," Serra replied, not missing a beat.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Will you two stop?" His brother and wife grudgingly turned their attention back towards Castiel and Grace as they each placed a hand, palm down, on Sabina's head. Grace closed her eyes, trying her best to listen to what Cas was explaining as well as pay attention the memories that began to race by in her mind's eye.

Grace had been able to read other people's minds since she was fourteen, but this process was very different. She had never been able to choose which memories she found; they had always been random and usually pretty trivial. When her visions and telepathy began, she was able to see what people were thinking at that moment in time and to push her own thoughts into other's brains (especially when she conversed with her sister and husband), but what she was attempting now was a new skill entirely. She took a deep breath as Castiel placed his other hand on top of Grace's, guiding her touch and thoughts silently.

 _She will have memories of the dreams she is having in the first layers of her thoughts. We need to dig past those and discover the truth,_ Castiel explained telepathically. Dean watched silently from across the room, his arms crossed and his eyebrows knitted together. _Dean is very jealous of this interaction,_ Cas continued.

Internally, Grace nodded slowly. _He's been that way since we talked about what you and me…did. I know he trusts us, but he has a hard time not being possessive of me._

 _I have no romantic interest in you,_ Castiel commented.

Grace chuckled outwardly. _I know, Cas, and he knows. It's hard for him not to be possessive of me._

Castiel opened his eyes and turned to face Grace. _I can understand why_ , he sighed. _The more time I spend with you and your children, the more I can understand the primal need to protect you. It's a very human instinct._ He turned his attention back to Sabina as she shifted uncomfortably under their hands.

 _You worried about turning human, Cas?_ Grace asked, a wry smile finding her lips.

 _Worried, no. I have been human and it's not as bad as other angels make it out to be. You are fortunate to have both influences._

Castiel and Grace continued their silent communication as Sam and Serra moved quietly to join Dean in the kitchen. "I hate it when they go telepathic," Serra whispered. "I feel all left out."

Dean pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show. " _You_ feel left out?" Dean clicked his tongue and shifted position uncomfortably, leaving the question hanging in the air between them.

"Oh yeah," Serra nodded knowingly. "When you were all demoned out, Cas got a little physical with your wife. Forgot about that."

From her elbow, Sam chastised, "Serra."

"Thank you for that," Dean replied.

Serra tried to hold back a wry grin, but failed miserably, "I'll bet picturing Cas wrapping his grace all arou—"

"Shut up," Sam glared at his wife as she turned away from Dean, giggling beside the brothers. "You're a real bitch sometimes," he whispered as she covered her mouth, trying to keep the laughter at bay. "Knock it off."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Serra whispered, gasping. "Okay, seriously. I'm sorry, Dean. I know you're touchy about it." She took a deep breath as continued to ignore her. "Dean, come on. You know I'm joking."

"I'm trying to figure out what they're doing," Dean whispered in response. "Shut up."

Castiel and Grace had their eyes closed and were unnaturally still. Sabina's eyes were on Grace, hoping that she would see something in the depths of her mind that would prove that she was on the Winchesters' side. Seconds passed, then minutes. Finally it was too much for Serendipity to take and she began her pace pattern around the living room once more.

When his wife was out of earshot, Sam leaned closer to Dean and lifted his eyebrow. "I never asked about that," he whispered. "But I've gotta know: how are you this composed about Cas and Grace? I didn't think you'd get over it this fast."

Dean didn't meet his brother's gaze, but instead stared intently at his wife. "You forget that I'm a very good actor," he answered quietly. "I'm with it on the outside," he continued. "But inside, I'm still…" He faded away and looked away from Grace. "I know that she deserves someone like Cas." Dean found interest in the toes of his boots as he forced the words to continue. "I've thought that since the first day I took her to get pie. I've never been good enough for her." Dean licked his lips and finally glanced at his brother. "And now, after this whole Ouriel thing…I dunno. It's just like I finally got confirmation."

"Dean, that's insane," Sam whispered, leaning close to his brother. "We've had this conversation before. You and Grace are cosmic. You belong together and you know it."

"But what if she should have been with someone that understands that part about her? They've both got wings, Sammy."

"You were supposed to," Sam replied, staring ahead as Serra paced by the both of them. Dean pressed his teeth together, flexing his jaw as he continued to watch Grace, not answering Sam rebuttal. Finally, Sammy added, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and figure out a way to be okay with what happened. They're technically both innocent."

"Then why are we still talking about it?"

…

Grace was standing in what seemed like a huge, empty room next to Castiel. "Where are we?" she asked, hearing her voice echo against the walls.

"In Sabina's subconscious," Castiel answered. "It's odd that it's empty."

Falling into step next to Cas, Grace lowered her voice to ask, "Should it be full?"

"Typically, in a human's subconscious, you would find the things they're always thinking about: husbands, wives," Cas looked up at Grace and lifted his eyebrows. "Children, family, friends."

Grace nodded and looked around again, "So why is Sabina's empty?"

"Because the memories that she told you about, the ones of her family and friends back in Holden," Castiel turned and spread his arms wide. "Apparently, they're entirely fictional."

"What?"

"If they were real, they would be here."

Grace turned on the spot, staring into the nothingness, and shaking her head in disbelief. "How did she lie to me? How didn't I see through that when I read her mind the first time we met?" She stared at Cas once again. "Serra was right. How did I miss that?"

"Because this is well hidden," Castiel replied, walking towards a light spot in the back of the room. "Almost as if Sabina herself doesn't know her story is false." Cas closed his eyes and took Grace's hand. "Do you feel that?"

Grace allowed the angel to interlace his fingers with hers. "The pulse," Grace answered. "It's like a baseline."

Without opening his eyes, Cas nodded. "Her truth lies there, beyond this place." Leading her towards the light dot that seemed so far away, Castiel tugged gently on Grace's hand. "As we go further into her mind, things will begin to seem…altered. Reality will not be as strong and you will feel the pull of the alternate reality that Sabina feels. Hold onto your own thoughts and do not let go of my hand."

"What happens if I let go?"

"Your human instincts will be to follow the false reality that Sabina has here. If I lose you in this altered state, it will be difficult for you to regain consciousness back inside your home."

Grace stared at the back of Castiel's head as he continued onward, still clutching her hand. "Regain consciousness? You mean I'm out of my body?"

"Temporarily."

"Cas," Grace gasped. "You didn't prep me for this."

He paused, turning to stare at Grace with his penetrating blue gaze. "I misunderstood your preparedness. I thought you were ready?"

"You didn't tell me we were leaving our bodies, Cas," Grace declared. "So, what, is my body a vessel too? Holy hell, Cas. You've gotta prep me before we do crazy shit like this!" She shook her head slowly, taking a deep, ragged breath. "Dean and Serra are going to flip out if they realize I'm not in my body."

"Your vessel will remain standing where it is until we rejoin it. For now, you can learn what it is like for an angel to dream walk into a human's subconscious."

"This is something you guys do on the regular, huh?" Grace rolled her eyes and readjusted her fingers in Cas' grip.

Castiel smiled lightly, "For millennia."

Grace pressed her lips together and nodded slowly. "Seems right," she sighed, falling into step next to him. "How long will we be gone?"

"It will only seem like minutes," he answered. "But we could be here for days."

"Great," Grace sighed. "I should have brought a snack."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Castiel and Grace had fallen into a comfortable, silent rhythm walking through the empty halls of Sabina's subconscious, both immersed in their own thoughts. As the light finally began to get closer and the vibration of the pulse that they both felt became stronger, Grace took a breath and glanced at the angel walking next to her.

"We're okay, right?" she asked quietly without preamble.

"We are safe here," Castiel answered, still watching the light at the end of the hall.

Shaking her head, Grace tried to find the words that would make the conversation less awkward. "No," she answered quietly. "I know we've talked about us before, in depth, but right before we left, I could hear Dean."

Castiel nodded slowly, looking more human than angel. "I understand," he answered, slowing his pace. "I heard the conversation as well." He licked his lips and stopped walking altogether and turned to face Grace. "Dean is a very complicated human," Cas began. "He hides his true feelings and battles with them internally until they are finally too much to take."

Grace nodded. "Yeah," she agreed. "Being married to him, more often than not, I'm happy I'm psychic." She paused at Castiel's smile, returning the gesture. "I just want to get something out in the open that I don't know if you understand."

"Yes?"

"If I knew our fate before I met Dean, I still don't know if I would have ever gotten pie."

"Grace," Castiel interrupted. "You can't think like that. It's the reason humans aren't supposed to know."

"Let me finish," she said, holding up her free hand. "I love Dean. I love him more than I ever thought I could love someone, and I know he feels the same, but there's something else that I can't place. It's almost a pull towards the other half of my instincts as a nephilim. Every once and a while," she paused and took a deep breath, "I wonder what my life would have been like with someone more like me."

"You're referring to me?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"Not necessarily, but you get the idea." Grace's cheeks reddened, breaking eye contact with Cas. "When you took me as a vessel, it…it's almost like it awoke some kind of pull towards Heaven. Like I don't belong on Earth and I fit in better with the angels."

"Did you feel the same when Lailah took you?"

"No."

Cas furrowed his eyebrows and looked confused. "Probably because she spent the entirety of the time she was a part of you plotting to end your life."

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"Does Dean know how you feel?"

Grace took another breath and tried to find the words, "I think he feels the same, honestly. We haven't been right since he got back and I think our relationship," she gestured between herself and Castiel, "is the driving force behind our hesitation. We keep thinking that we're fine and then something like the conversation from before comes up and makes me doubt everything again."

Castiel smiled gently, but turned away from Grace, preparing to restart their journey across Sabina's subconscious. Grace unwillingly took a step to catch up to him as he explained. "I am flattered that I would have that much affect on your relationship with your husband, Grace," he began. "But honestly, I believe the only hesitation that Dean has is the idea that he attempted to murder you and that your children have been tapped as Gatekeepers. It's all very stressful and Dean has been stressed his entire life." Cas glanced at Grace. "You have too."

"Yeah, that means we should be able to handle it better than the average couple, don't you think?"

"You're focused so much on our supposed infidelity that you're forgetting the bigger picture here." Cas slowed his pace, staring hard at the ray of light that was getting bigger and brighter by the second. "Everything we did over the course of your pregnancy was your body and your mind. The only times I ever actually used my grace to comfort you was laying in bed when you thought Dean would never return. It was the pure desperation of being alone in a world that didn't understand you that spurred you on."

"It was more than that, Cas," Grace argued.

"It was what you made it," he replied. "Being intimate with a celestial being is your fantasy, not mine. I have been with celestial, demonic, and human companions." He turned and smiled at Grace. "You forget that Dean was to be Michael's vessel. Technically, he is a celestial being."

"Let's go back to your sexual experimentations, Cas," Grace grinned, laughing lightly. "Demonic? Really?"

Castiel smiled at the memory and closed his eyes momentarily. "She called me her unicorn, and then we ordered from the pizza man."

Grace pressed her lips together, "Wow, Cas. That's…that's something we never need to talk about again." She took a deep breath and shook her head, moving on from the subject. "Dean and I are okay, though, right?"

"You will be," he answered, nonchalantly.

"And we're fine?" she pressed, referring to she and Cas.

"Grace, there is nothing you could do to upset me in that way. I love you deeply, as I love your children and Dean and Sam. Serra is trying at times, but of course, I love her as well."

"I love you too, Cas."

Without acknowledging her, Castiel nodded towards the stream of light that shone on the floor of the giant room. "We're here," he said quietly. "Remember not to let go of my hand."

"What are we going to do in there?"

Taking a deep breath and stepping into the ray of light, Castiel took a stronger posture as he moved towards the doorway. Out of the corner of her eye, Grace could see the edge of shadow that Castiel's wings created on the floor behind them. "We're going to find out who Sabina Wells really is."

As they walked towards the next room, Grace gripped Castiel's hand desperately, fear of the unknown gripping her for the first time. Cas sensed her unease and turned to her and smiled, "Lest you forget, Grace Winchester; you bear the weight of your wings more easily than you think." He raised his eyebrows and nodded towards the second shadow on the floor.

For the first time, Grace turned to witness the shadow of her own wings, spread just as wide and elegantly as Castiel's. She gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand and shook her head slowly. "Can you see them without the shadow?" she asked, not looking at her companion.

"Yes," he answered. "I wish you could see how beautiful you are."

…

"How long are they just going to stand there like statues?" Serra asked, approaching her sister. "It's driving me _insane_ that I can't hear her."

"They're in someone's subconscious," Sam answered. "It's not like they went to get milk."

Dean approached Grace as well, standing near enough to hear her breathe, slow and steady. Turning his attention to Castiel, he shook his head. "It's weird," he began. "I can hear her breathe, but I can't hear Cas."

"He doesn't really need to," Sam replied. "She's half human, so I guess she needs to keep everything working."

Sabina's eyes fluttered, looking as if she was deep in a dream state. "This is killing me," Dean muttered, mostly to himself. "What if she needs me? How am I supposed to help her if I don't even know what she's doing?"

"She's with Cas," Sammy whispered. "He'll protect her. Although, I'm not sure if she needs protecting, Dean. It's not like she can't defend herself."

Dean swallowed hard. "You know what I mean, Sammy," he growled.

Silence lapsed in the Winchesters living room again, except for Serendipity's footsteps as she made another pass through the kitchen and into the living room. "How long do you think this will take?" Sam asked. "Like, should we go to bed, so at least we're functional when they finally figure something out?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Serra spat, still walking. "Until my sister decides to grace us with her presence, I'll be here."

"Wearing a path through my hardwood floors," Dean sighed. "I'll make some coffee. Who knows how long this will take?"


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The light was blinding. Grace had to shield her eyes from the glare, holding up her hand as she attempted to follow Castiel into the next room.

"Don't fight it," Cas muttered. "Absorb it. See through it."

Confused, Grace glanced at the angel, but shrugged and lowered her hand. Closing her eyes momentarily against the blaze of light, she took a deep breath and slowly reopened them and was surprised at the detail with which she could see. It was as if it was a sunny day in a rural area, complete with hillsides with long, green grass, wooden and stone buildings with stone fences. The glare was gone.

"How did I do that?" she asked, still gripping Castiel's hand.

"You believed that you could. You forget that you are half angel, Grace," he explained. "I keep telling you that you have more power than you think you have."

"Grace is grace," she said, repeating the mantra that Castiel had been telling her since he began her training. "Okay. Where are we now?"

"This is a memory," he answered. "A real one."

"I can still feel the pulse," Grace added. "It's stronger here."

Castiel didn't answer, but pulled her along with him as he headed towards a wooden barn, far out in the field of grass. As Grace blindly followed Cas, she took the time to observe her surroundings and take in what she could about the memory they were in. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, suddenly feeling like she was being watched. Turning to watch the road behind them, Grace saw the flash of golden red hair duck into the tree line to their left.

"Cas, there's someone here," she whispered, gesturing to the woods.

"Keep walking," Castiel answered, still tugging Grace along. "I feel that she does not belong here."

Grace tried to watch as she continued to walk, but it was hard at the pace they were taking. "Cas," she asked, "if we get hurt here, are we hurt at home?"

Cas flicked his blue gaze to Grace, "Yes," came his simple reply. "We need to move quickly."

…

Delilah watched from the trees of her weakling sister's hidden memory as the angel and the nephilim walked quickly towards the wooden barn in the distance. She clicked her tongue in annoyance and shook her head. "How did they get through the spell?" she whispered. "How the _hell_ did they find this?"

Rhiannon slowly shook her head in disbelief. "I am sorry, Delilah. I have no idea. The enchantments should have held." She glanced at her sister, Sasha and wrung her hands together. "What would you have us do?"

"Do everything in your power to make sure they die here. I cannot have the Warrior discovering that Sabina is not genuine. She already knows too much, and if the memory wipe doesn't stick, it'll be your hide." Delilah glared at the two witches and narrowed her eyes, speaking to Rhiannon. "This time I'll take something that doesn't grow back."

Subconsciously, Rhiannon reached to the top of her head and felt the baby-fine white-blonde hair that was finally starting to grow back. Delilah had burned her luscious locks after being angered in Holden and she had no desire to repeat the process this time. Rhiannon nodded silently and Delilah disappeared on the spot.

Staying in the trees, the witches followed the angel and nephilim as they walked hand in hand up the dirt road, hiding near a pond once they got within ear shot. Sasha leaned towards her sister and whispered, "How do we kill them if they are not in their bodies?" she asked. "Will spells work?

"We'll find out," Rhiannon whispered back. "I cannot allow Delilah to be disappointed again. There is too much at stake."

Sasha nodded and watched the nephilim open the door to the barn and follow the angel inside. They listened carefully for any hint of a plan, but their voices did not carry over the steady breeze as the witches had anticipated. "They must be communicating telepathically," Rhiannon whispered. "We need a plan."

…

"Did you hear that?" Serra asked, turning to face Dean.

Already moving from his spot against the counter, Dean nodded silently and kneeled to spin the combination lock to the floor safe in the dining room. Serra and Sam both moved instinctively towards the front and back doors respectively as Dean tossed Sammy a loaded pistol.

Pulling the slide back on his pearl handled Colt forty-five, Dean took a deep breath. "Honestly, I expected something sooner than this," he whispered towards Serra.

"Then why the hell were you trying to get me to stop?" Serra replied; her eyebrows knitted together angrily.

Dean rolled his eyes as he moved the curtains to stare out onto the property. "Because you're annoying," he answered. "Anything?"

"Not out front," Serra muttered, staring out the glass window next to the front door. "Protective enchantments are back in place, courtesy of our resident angel."

"Nothing back here," Sam answered, glancing back at his brother and wife. There was another thump and scratch, sounding like something was attempting to get into the house, but when the Winchesters stared out into the darkness surrounding the property, there was nothing to be seen.

Serra glanced back at her sister and tilted her head. "You hearing this, Gracie? Are you able to be in two places at once?"

Grace's body remained where it was, inhumanly still and touching Sabina's forehead. All three of them, Sabina, Castiel, and Grace, had their eyes closed as they continued wandering around in Sabina's subconscious.

Dean shook his head. "We didn't plan this out," he muttered. "We should have had them do this in the panic room."

"How were we supposed to know something was coming?" Sam asked, taking a deep breath.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Because something always comes when we don't have everyone in _this_ parallel universe. Startin' to get old."

The sounds continued for the next few seconds, then suddenly, just as fast as they started, ceased and the house was silent once again. Serra, Dean, and Sam exchanged glances and Sam shrugged. "False alarm?" he asked, staring at his brother.

Before he had a chance to answer, Dean's phone began to ring from inside his pocket. He tilted his head and reached for it, clicking his tongue and pressing his lips together when he saw the caller ID. "It's Crowley," he grumbled. "What?" he asked angrily when he hit 'accept' on the screen.

"I was just there and you're telling me that you've already got the enchantments back up around the house? I'm starting to feel as if I'm not welcome."

"What do you want?" Dean asked, pulling the phone away and turning on the speaker.

Crowley clicked his tongue in annoyance at the room. "Delilah is nowhere to be found. I would bet my hellhounds that she is either on her way to you or has figured out a different way to injure or maim you that I have yet to think of," he answered. "What changed on your side to fast track the redhead into thinking that she needed to attack you this very moment?"

Dean glanced at Sam, taking a deep breath. "Grace and Cas went into Sabina's subconscious to find out her real story," Dean answered. "What's the connection?"

"Let me in so we can talk. I feel so exposed out here in the elements."

Sam was already on his way to the front door and opened it, taking a knife to one of the many sigils painted on the ceiling of the covered porch, and scratched enough of it away that it broke the seal. Crowley stepped into the flood of light from the porch and slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

"I've missed you desperately, Serendipity," he grinned and winked at Serra as she approached from behind Sam.

Serra clicked the safety off of her guns once again and attempted to raise it towards Crowley, but Sam was already pushing her arms down. "Hurry up," Sam muttered to Crowley. "Let's get this over with."

Crowley climbed the steps to the porch and glanced around, narrowing his eyes at Grace and Castiel's position over Sabina. "How long have they been gone?" Crowley asked, gesturing at the two.

"About an hour so far," Dean answered, looking at his watch. "Why?"

"Delilah disappeared around eight thirty," Crowley answered. "Obviously, the two actions are related." He moved closer to Sabina, Castiel, and Grace and inspected them carefully. Serra was on edge as he watched, moving closer to the group almost involuntarily. He turned back to Dean and took a deep breath, "Sabina Wells is not a mousy teenager from Holden, Maine. She is at least three hundred years old and sister to Delilah."

"And saying this when you were here the first time wasn't an option, huh?" Serra growled, raising her gun once more.

"They say you learn something new every day," Crowley answered. "I have only been back long enough to feel out parts of Delilah's plan. You have been a part of it since it occurred to me that I would need you, unfortunately. Let's not get too feisty with each other just yet, Lady Luck. We have a long journey together, yet."

Crowley turned back towards Grace and Castiel, touching Grace's hand as he approached. "Whoa," Dean began, wary. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to bloody work," Crowley spat. "You keep forgetting about the 'I need you to survive' part. Trust me; I will be the first in line to tell you about the cease fire being over."

Dean pressed his teeth together, but remained where he was.

Crowley turned back to Grace and closed his eyes as his hand rested on top of hers. Moments passed slowly, but finally, he opened his eyes and turned to face Dean, Sam, and Serra. "We have a problem," Crowley declared. "A very large, very deadly, red-headed problem."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Cas," Grace whispered. "Is she still out there?"

 _Stay telepathic,_ Castiel answered, squeezing her hand once. _She will be able to track us through sound. We need to go back to our bodies before she has a chance to curse us._

 _But we haven't found out anything about Sabina,_ Grace answered. _We need to stay and finish the mission._

Castiel pressed his lips together and took a deep breath through his nose. _Let's do what we can in this place. If there is nothing here, or if the situation changes, I am sending you back._

 _Not without you,_ Grace furrowed her eyebrows at the angel. _I'm not going anywhere without you._

Castiel nodded once. _I'm not going to make any promises. I can find my way back. You are inexperienced and still learning what you can do. My job is to protect you._

 _Your job is to help me find out who Sabina is._

Without another thought, Cas turned and pulled Grace towards the stack of books in the corner of the barn. The vibrating pulse continued through Grace's subconscious, pushing her towards the stack of leather-bound books. As they approached, she could read the title of the one on the top, but the language was one that she didn't easily recognize. _They're spell books?_ Grace asked. _What does that mean?_

Castiel remained silent, reaching for the large edition on the very top. Grace glanced sidelong at Cas as he reached for the cover. _Cas,_ Grace breathed. _I don't know about this._

 _You're first instinct is correct. They are spell books, Grace. I am beginning to believe that Sabina is not as innocent as she sounds._

The hairs on the back of Grace's neck stood on end, the feeling of uneasiness spread through her chest and she struggled to keep calm. As Castiel opened the cover of the book, it happened too quickly.

…

Serendipity froze where she was, feeling it before it happened. She couldn't begin to explain it, but the cold in the pit of her stomach could only mean one thing.

"Sam," she whispered. "The kids need to be in the panic room."

Dean, Sam, and Crowley slowly turned to face her.

"Now."

For the first time since they had been married, Sam didn't question Serra's instincts. In unison, Sam and Dean turned and took the stairs two at a time, with Serra backing up the steps with her gun drawn and loaded. "Lucia," she whispered. "We need you."

In a flash, Lucia appeared at the top of the steps with her head tilted to one side. "What is it?" she asked calmly.

Serra shook her head, still staring at the front door. "I don't know yet," she whispered. "But Grace and Cas are out of commission and we've got six sleeping kids that we need to get out of the blast zone."

Lucia turned towards the front door and listened as a low growl began to vibrate through the wheat fields. She closed her eyes and whispered to herself, trying to mutter a protective incantation in Enochian. Dean jogged past, carrying two infants, both close to consciousness. "Grab a kid, Lucy. We need to get them downstairs."

"Lucia, take Everett," Sam called, beckoning her to his room. "And what the hell is that?"

Serra stared at the ground, listening hard. "Oh my God," she whispered.

"What is that?" Dean shouted, coming back up the steps, ready to take Glory from Sam's grip.

"Is that?" Sam turned to stare at Serra. "Serra? Is that—"

Serra turned, wide-eyed towards her husband. "A tornado. That's a tornado."

…

The blast that took down the doors to the barn was almost too much for Grace to take. She was knocked down, pulling Cas to the ground with her. She closed her eyes, hoping that she could shield herself and the angel from the blast, but a renegade two-by-four came crashing across her chest, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

Castiel rolled to the side, pushing the two-by-four off of Grace and pulled her to the relative safety of the horse stalls and squinted into the harsh light, now being blasted into the barn.

"Are you okay?" Cas asked, still staring into the beam of light, seemingly waiting for something.

Grace shook the debris out of her hair and checked her breathing. "Yeah, I think so," she replied. "You?"

Castiel nodded once. "I'm fine. Prepare yourself."

Grunting slightly under the effort of moving so quickly after being injured, Grace grimaced as she changed positions, still trying to keep hold of Cas' hand. "Yeah," she whispered. "Alright, sure. Be prepared for an attack in a dream land with no weapons." Castiel turned to face her and pressed his lips together. She tilted her head, unsympathetic. "No problem."

The building around them began to vibrate; the windows shaking in their panes and dust coming down from the rafters. "We need to get out of this building," Castiel muttered, glancing behind them. "There's a forest outside that I'll bet that we can get to."

"And do what, Cas?" Grace asked as the quaking increased. "Can we even use our abilities here?"

Castiel showed more human emotion than Grace was ready for. "We'll have to see," he answered, worry creasing his brow as he took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

"What if I said no?"

Ignoring her, Cas gripped Grace's hand and pulled her to her feet. "We run straight to the trees, no stopping. I am going to try to bring us back to our plane of existence as we run."

"That doesn't sound impossible," Grace rolled her eyes and turned her face away from the shards of glass that exploded outward.

"You're beginning to emulate your sister," he replied to Grace's sarcastic remark.

"Beginning to?"

Castiel tugged Grace into a run as soon as the second window exploded. They burst through the doors at the other end of the barn, but not before Grace reached out to take the large spell book that topped the pile. Tucking it under her free arm as tightly as she could, she fell into step next to Castiel as they made a break for the tree line.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"A fucking tornado," Serra was muttering under her breath. "Of course there's a fucking tornado. It's dark outside, my sister is in someone else's subconscious, and there's a fucking tornado."

"Serra!" Dean shouted from the other end of the house. "You comin'?"

The growl of the tornado was not far off, and from the sound of it, it was huge. Crowley paused, watching the chaos around him uninterestedly. Serendipity brushed passed him and she shook her head, disgusted with the idea that the demon was still in her sister's house.

"You either need to help or get the fuck out of here," Serra grunted as she grabbed a laundry basket and dumped as many water bottles and diapers as she could into it. "I know this is all very entertaining to you."

Crowley clicked his tongue. "May I reiterate," he answered, annoyed. "If any of the children die, I die. This is far from entertaining."

"Well, then, grab a basket and get some food and water. Who knows how big this will be?"

Coming back up the basement steps, Sammy and Dean were both slightly winded. "What else?" Sam asked, glancing around. "There's no food down there anymore."

"Yeah I know," Serra answered. "Grace hasn't been to Costco in a while. All of it was about to expire."

"We've gotten soft," Dean answered as he glanced around his old farmhouse, listening to the wind howl outside.

"We've gotten busy," Serendipity corrected. "There's a difference."

Crowley picked up the laundry basket of goods that Serra had thrown onto the table and headed down towards the basement. The Winchester brothers followed suit, turning in tandem towards the stairwell. Serra noted happily that there was a gun tucked in the back of each brother's belt and as she turned to get the last of the laundry baskets, the sirens began.

Taking a long, deep breath, Serra closed her eyes while still clutching the laundry basket, and tried to force herself to calm down. "It's just wind," Serendipity whispered. "It's just really loud, really fast wind."

"Like hell it is," Crowley answered as he crested the top of the basement steps. He glanced around the house as the walls creaked and the sirens blared. "This is no regular storm."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, stepping behind him.

Serra turned to face the demon in her sister's living room and narrowed her eyes. "What do you know, Crowley?" she asked, clenching her teeth together.

Crowley lifted his eyebrows and motioned to the door of the basement. "We could discuss it, in detail, below ground."

Glancing back towards a still-motionless Grace and Castiel, Serra asked, "What about my sister?"

"She's half-angel," Crowley replied, his voice full of acid. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

Dean approached his wife and bent to try and see her face. "Can't we move them?" he had to raise his voice now that the storm was approaching. "It doesn't seem like the smartest thing we've ever done, just leaving them out in the open."

Crowley shook his head. "If they break the connection they have with the witch before they come out of her subconscious, we have no idea where they might end up on this plane or the next."

"Shit," Serra whispered. She whipped her head around towards the back door as a tree branch cracked in the distance. "I'll be right back."

"Serra!" Sam yelled, seeing her turn towards the back door. "What are you doing?"

"I'll be right back," she repeated, shaking her head. "Keep an eye on this one," she motioned towards Crowley and rolled her eyes. "Johnny and Jimmy are still out in the barn."

Sam was already shaking his head. "The doors are open. If they have to, they'll take off," he answered. "They'll come back and they'll be okay."

Narrowing her eyes, Serendipity glared at Sam. "It's like I don't even know you sometimes," she muttered and turned back towards the back door.

"Serra," Sam began as the house howled with the wind.

"They're my animals, Sam," she shot back over her shoulder. "It'll take three minutes."

Crowley rolled his eyes and headed towards the basement. "Excuse me, Moose. I prefer not to be blown apart from within a one hundred year old house."

Sam stared down at Crowley, his eyes narrowing. "Why are you even still here? Can't you just bamf yourself wherever until this all blows over?"

Blocking his path into the basement, Dean watched Crowley carefully, his jade eyes darkening with barely controlled rage. Crowley glanced from brother to brother and shrugged, "Alright, I suppose the truth would have come out eventually," he sighed. "Since I've been back, I haven't exactly been my devastatingly well-put together self."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "What?"

"Can we please move down stairs?" Crowley repeated, gesturing towards the stairs, where most of the Winchester children were staring up at him, curiosity taking over their features.

"Not until Serra's back," Sam answered. "Spill. What do you mean?"

"Delilah wanted to be in control at all times," Crowley whined. "She made the spell to be dependent on another supernatural creature."

"Such as?"

"Such as herself; a witch. Or an angel." His dark eyes flicked towards where Grace, Castiel, and Sabina were still frozen in time. "Or a nephilim."

Dean and Sam exchanged a doubtful glance. "What, so you've gotta be charged up or something?" Dean asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "How do you keep getting here, then?"

"I bloody hitchhiked."

"Crowley," Dean warned, taking a step forward. "My kids have never witnessed me killing another creature, but right now, they've got front row seats."

Crowley rolled his eyes and finally sighed. "I can bounce around once or twice before Delilah has share enough mojo to get me tuned up again. I am working at about a quarter my normal power."

The corner of Sam's lips turned up into a half chuckle as he exchanged looks with his big brother. "So let me get this straight," Sam replied quietly. "You came to make friends because you needed Grace or Cas to charge you back up, not because of this whole Gatekeeper thing."

"In addition to, Moose," Crowley hung his head back, staring at the ceiling and listening to the howl of the wind and the tornado sirens. "I must have been pretty bloody desperate to come knocking on the Winchesters' door."

Dean and Sam smiled at each other, knowing now how much Crowley needed them. Before any more words could be exchanged, Johnny, the black lab, came running into the kitchen, wet and terrified, barking and howling as soon as he saw Sammy.

"What?" Sam asked, staring at the dog. "Where's Serra?" Johnny continued barking and whining as he ran around the living room, leaving mud, water, and other debris scattered in the kitchen from his trail. Sam jogged to the back door, staring out into the storm. "Serra!" he called. "Serra!"

As he watched, a bolt of lightning hit the top of the barn, the flash creating a bright glow around the field for only seconds. Serra was nowhere to be seen. "Serra!" Sam screamed, hesitant to leave the safety of the covered porch. Another bolt of lightning hit and as Sam turned, he gasped at the sight of the tornado, not more than a mile away.

Dean stood behind his brother, holding onto the back of the flannel Sam wore. "No, Sam," he growled. "Give her a minute."

"She's out there, Dean," Sam replied. "I have to go get her. What if she's hurt?"

"Sam, don't," Dean cautioned. "This…this is weird, man." Dean stared at the tornado, waiting for lightning to strike again. "Listen."

"Listen to what? The wind is howling, Dean! I have to go get Serra."

Dean physically pulled Sam back into the kitchen and pointed to the tornado. "You don't hear that?" he asked, his eyebrows in his hairline.

"Hear what, Dean?"

"Exactly!" Dean turned towards the tornado and stared at it. "There's no growl." The brothers turned on the porch and Sam tried to focus on what Dean was talking about. "How many tornados have we seen and heard in our lives, Sammy?" Dean asked over the wind. "How many tornados have been silent on approach?"

"But the wind?" Sam asked, still fighting the impulse to chase after Serra.

"The wind, yeah," Dean answered, staring off into the night, "but the tornado isn't growling. That tornado is silent, and that brother, is somethin' I ain't never seen."

As Sam and Dean stared off into the night, Sam finally saw what he was waiting for. Serra was approaching through the field, clutching her pet pig. "Serra!" he shouted, finally moving towards his wife. "Jesus, I was freaked –"

Another bolt of lightning struck, hitting the giant tree behind the barn, sending sparks into the air. Serendipity turned, gasping, and shielded her face from the sparks. She dove for the ground as Sam watched in terror, and a tree branch broke free of the tree, which was now engulfed in flames. As they watched in horror, a giant branch came crashing down into the field, pinning Serra to the ground. Sam took off in an instant and tore off into the rain.

Hesitating, Dean glanced back at his wife and the angel, wishing more than anything that they were conscious. He was torn: go help his brother and sister-in-law or stay and protect the kids with the angel Lucia. Dean pressed his lips together and watched from the porch, his feet rooted to the ground. He would not leave his kids.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Grace was out of breath by the time she and Castiel made it to the forest outside of the decrepit barn. They waited silently to see if they had a tail, but so far, they were in the clear.

"Are you alright?" Castiel whispered, glancing at Grace. "You're out of breath."

"Yeah, I haven't had to make a break for my life in about two months," Grace answered sarcastically. "I'm out of shape."

Castiel tilted his head, considering her momentarily. "You are in good shape, Grace, considering that you have been impregnated four separate times. Many women are unable to lose the weight they gain with a pregnancy."

Grace stared at him, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. Making a face, she commented, "It's a good thing you don't regularly talk to the general public."

"Talking to the general public has never been a strength of mine," Castiel answered, staring at the barn and waiting to see that they weren't being followed.

Grace set the spell book down, flipping through the pages quickly as Castiel stood watch. "What language is this?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "Maybe ancient Greek?"

Finally looking down at what she was doing, Castiel watched over Grace's shoulder as she examined the book. "No," Castiel shook his head. "It's Lepontic."

"Lepontic?" Grace whispered, tracing the words with her fingers. "What is that? I've never heard of it."

Cas sank slowly into a crouching position and held his finger up to his lips, silencing Grace with one movement. She nodded and followed his gaze, sinking below the cover of the undergrowth. In the distance, there were voices chanting loud enough to be heard, but not understood. Grace turned, staring carefully at Castiel as he listened hard. She couldn't tell if it was her imagination or not, but it was almost as if her fingers were going numb; a tingling sensation was crawling up her nails and into her skin. Still having a hard time catching her breath, Grace reached out to Castiel, touching his arm gently, and furrowed her eyebrows as concern flooded her features.

"Grace?" Cas whispered. "What's happening?"

"I can't feel my fingers," she answered, kneeling in the underbrush that kept them hidden. The chanting was louder now, strong female voices carrying over the forest in unison. "And I can't get a deep breath."

Castiel shut his eyes, squeezing them tight, as realization hit him. "They're casting a spell," he whispered harshly, whipping around to face Grace completely. He held her by the shoulders as she struggled to focus. "Grace listen to me," he continued, forcing her to maintain eye contact. "I'm sending you back before they finish chanting the spell and then take care of the problem here. At home, Lucia and I can fix the damage they've caused you."

"You can't stay here by yourself," Grace replied, flexing her fingers, trying to push the feeling back to them, but her abilities seemed dulled. "You said we needed to stay together."

"That was before we were under attack," he commented offhandedly. "Stop arguing. Send Lucia to me. Be safe."

Before Grace had a chance to rebuttal, there was a flash of blue light, and blinking, Grace glanced around her living room. The only person she could see was her husband, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, staring out into the storm that shook the house.

"Dean?" she asked, tilting her head. "What's happening?"

Whipping around to see his wife finally awake and walking towards him, Dean couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He lunged towards her, scooping her into a grateful hug. "Sonuvabitch, I was worried," he whispered into her hair as he clutched her close.

Nodding into his shoulder, Grace smiled. "I know, me too," she answered. "Cas sent me back. The witches –" Grace glanced around the house, stopping short. "Where are Serra and Sam?"

His face gave him away before his words did. Grace was already headed towards the doorway where Dean had been standing only moments before. She turned back to her husband and furrowed her eyebrows, fear creased in her face. "What happened?"

"Lightning," Dean breathed. "There's a tornado coming and Serra went out to get Johnny and that damn pig," he reached out to her shoulder to hold her in the house. "No," he continued. "Stay. Sammy is out there and they'll be right back."

Seconds passed with nothing but the wind howling and the tornado sirens blaring. Grace's fingertips tapped her legs impatiently and she tried to control her breathing, still feeling a tingling sensation in the tips of her fingers. "Dean," she whispered. "They're still out there."

"Just wait," Dean replied, refusing to acknowledge that anything had happened. "The branch was big, but she's strong."

Grace was shaking her head, staring into the darkness. "Something is wrong," she said quietly, trying to keep from panicking from the overwhelming sensation of dread. "Something isn't right."

"Momma!" a tiny voice shouted from the stairs of the basement's panic room and Grace turned reflexively. "Momma!"

Grace turned and jogged towards the steps, tripping on the rug in the middle of the kitchen. "I'm coming," she replied, trying to be soothing, even though the terror seeped through her spine. "I'm right here."

Liberty was at the top of the steps, red faced and teary, like she had been crying. "Momma, you're back," she yelled, running to Grace and hugging her. "Where is Uncle Cas?"

"He's still in Sabina's subconscious," Grace answered quietly, hiding her concern. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Liberty took a deep, shaking breath and turned back towards the stairs, where the other Winchester children had begun to gather, waiting for their parents. Lucia stood among them, one arm supporting Charlotte and the other surrounding the older children protectively. "Everett," Libby answered, pointing. "Everett is on the ground."

Grace threw Dean a wary look and launched herself down the steps, taking two at a time. The children followed her, but Dean hesitated once again. Sam and Serra had still not been seen in the field.

…

Running full tilt through the field between the big and little houses, Sammy reached the large fallen branch quickly. "Serra!" Sam shouted over the storm, "Serra?" His wife gave no answer as he circled the tree's foliage, looking for the best way to pull the branch from his wife. "Serra!" he repeated, finally seeing the bottoms of her boots. "Serra, talk to me!"

Serendipity remained motionless, her eyes were closed and her body had collapsed in an awkward way under the branch, which was still pinning her to the ground. Sam took a breath, reeling, and again attempted to move the branch.

"Serra," he continued, trying to get her conscious. "You've gotta wake up, honey." He moved the branches enough to get closer to his wife, bending at the waist to feel her pulse. "Sere? Serra, come on."

Managing to break the branches to create a path to his wife, Sam crouched to her side, still resting his hand on her neck. Satisfied that she was still alive, he again tried to move the giant tree branch to the side to get closer still to Serra. Finally able to reach her face, Sam cupped her cheek and attempted to persuade her to wake once more.

"Serra?" he asked, staring at her, looking for any signs of consciousness. "Serra, the tornado is coming. We need to move." She was still silent and motionless. "The only way to get you to shut up is to knock you out, huh?" Sam commented, breaking more branches. "That seems about right."

Jimmy, the pig Serra had gone out to save, trotted around Sammy's feet anxiously, obviously unhurt. "All for a pig," Sam continued, eyeing the animal. "Go get Dean," he said, speaking now to Jimmy. "Be useful for a change." He glanced up at the big house, trying to see past the light flooding through the doorway. "Johnny would know what to do."

Sammy waved once, trying to get Dean's attention, but the storm was too loud. "Dean!" he shouted, but was drowned out by thunder as it clapped through the sky. He glanced back down at his wife as he broke more branches away from her face, but his heart dropped as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the field in light.

There was a blood pool beginning to form under Serra's unconscious body, soaking the wheat around her. Sam felt around, trying to find where the blood was coming from, but he was at a loss, especially once he saw the deep crimson spread through the bright white tee shirt.

"Shit, shit, shit," Sam whispered, kneeling down to his wife. "Serra, honey," he repeated, panic taking hold. "Hold on, Sere. I need Dean to help me."

Sam stood and sprinted across the field once more, tripping on the fallen ash tree branches around him. "Dean!" he bellowed. "Dean, come help me!"


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

As Grace knelt down, she turned towards Lucia and nodded towards the steps. "Go to Cas," she commanded gently. "He sent me back and needs you to help him."

Lucia nodded once and without arguing, put Charlotte in the playpen in Jody's old apartment, and turned to climb the steps, her long blonde hair trailing behind her.

Calling after her, Grace took a deep breath. "Be careful," she warned. "There are witches." Lucia acknowledged with the wave of her hand and disappeared up the stairs.

Grace turned back towards Everett, facing her son as he rocked back and forth on his knees with his hands over his ears on the floor of the panic room. "All of you need to head towards Jody's apartment; that's the safer side. Lib, get Faith too, please."

"No!" Everett screamed. "No!"

Liberty clasped Glory's hand but hesitated, staring at her brother as if she wanted to run to him, but the desire to follow her mother's instructions was stronger. She picked Faith up from the floor and Levi followed, taking the blankets Faith had been laying on with them. Crowley watched the entire scene from the safety of the doorway to Jody's old apartment, his hands in his pockets and his eyes narrowed with interest.

"No what, Ev?" Grace asked, inching closer. "What's wrong?"

For the first time, Everett seemed to realize that Grace was there and his eyes flew open, seeing her for the first time. His bright blue eyes were bloodshot and he looked exhausted. Everett's dark blonde hair, normally styled almost identically to Dean's, was matted to his forehead with sweat and he was red with effort.

"She's here," he whispered, still rocking. "She's trying to get in my brain."

Grace took a deep breath, reaching for her son. "Delilah?" she asked, already knowing the truth. "Is Delilah here?"

Everett rocked forward and covered his ears harder, squeezing his eyes shut. The wind and sirens howled from the floor above them and the whole house seemed to shake. "She's here. She wants me to come with her. She's gonna kill Auntie."

Grace's eyes went wide, hearing Everett's panic. "Everett, get control, kiddo. She can't get you in here. There's nothing that can get in this place uninvited." Grace glanced behind her towards Crowley. "And Auntie is going to be fine. She just went to get Johnny and Jimmy."

"No!" Everett shrieked. "She's out there! She's the storm!"

Clicking his tongue, Crowley took a deep breath through his nose and shook his head. "So dramatic," he chided.

Grace whipped around towards the demon and immediately, anger exploded out of her. "If you're going to be here, if you're going to 'help'," she motioned with her fingers to emphasize her sarcasm, "then get off your pedestal and actually fucking do something. Get out there and distract her."

Crowley shook his head slowly. "I am barely hidden from her as it is," he began softly, his accent clouded from the roar of the storm. "If we're going to work together, I need to play the part. She needs to think that I'm still on her side."

Wrapping her arms around her son, she tried to comfort him. "Everett, I will never let anything happen to you," she whispered, standing as she clutched her son. "And if we're going to start training you, then we're going to start right now."

"Training us?" Lib asked from the doorway. "You're finally going to train us?"

Looking up at her daughter, she nodded once. "You're half nephilim and half Mark of Cain, honey. Hell yes, we're going to train you." She glanced up fast enough to see a grin flash across her daughter's face and Grace nodded in approval. "There's a box behind the bookcase in Jody's room, baby," Grace continued. "Go get it please, and bring it here." Liberty immediately disappeared into the apartment next door to the panic room and came back in clutching a leather chest about the size of a shoebox. "Open it up, kiddo," she continued, still holding Everett. "Today, we're going to learn about sigils."

…

Sammy ran through the field at a breakneck pace, squinting through the pouring rain and lightning. As soon as he got close enough to the Big House to be heard, he screamed again at Dean, finally getting his attention.

"Dean!" he shouted, waving his hands.

Without pausing, Dean looked up and jumped down the steps, two at a time. He jogged to Sam and as they ran through the field, lightning crashed around them, causing both to flinch.

"She's knocked out, pinned to the ground, and starting to bleed!" Sam yelled, explaining the situation. "There's no way I can move it alone."

"Alright," Dean grunted, reaching the enormous branch that lay across Serendipity's collapsed form. "On three!"

Sam and Dean counted together and finally pulled with all of their might as the rain began to pour down. The tree branch didn't budge.

"What the hell?" Dean grumbled, bending down towards Serra. "Dude, she's bleedin' pretty bad."

"I know, I know," he agreed. "I don't know where from though. I can't see her wound." Sammy shook his head and gestured to the branch. "Lift again." He pushed his rain soaked hair from his face and took a deep breath as the brothers attempted to drag the branch away from Serra once more.

Dean was shaking with effort as he stared at his brother. "Sam, it's not budging. There's no way."

"What are we going to do?"

Licking his lips and wiping water from his face, Dean gestured towards the house. "Grace is back," Dean began, yelling over the storm. "I'm gonna bet that she can move some molecules and do a better job that we could."

Sam nodded, lifting his eyebrows and squinting through the rain. "Hurry," he answered as Dean turned towards the house and focused on calling Grace. Sam bent down, squatting next to Serendipity and brushed her hair out of her face. "Hold on, baby," he whispered. "Grace is coming."

…

"There," Grace smiled at her son, staring at the sigil that had been painstakingly painted on the floor of the basement. "This is a rune for protection and it will keep out anyone trying to get in."

Everett smiled down at the symbol and took a deep breath, glancing at Crowley as he tilted his head. Grace saw the movement, looking a little too much like doubt, and she took a deep breath.

"What?" Grace asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Pointing with the toe of his loafer, Crowley lifted his eyebrows in doubt, a wry smile playing at the edge of his lips. "That, there is wrong," he took a deep breath and moved around the edge of the sigil, still gesturing with his head. "It's backwards."

"No it's not," Grace argued. "You're looking at the whole sign, not just that one part."

Crowley licked his lips and put his hands in the pockets of his trousers, taking a deep breath. "I don't need the bloody sigil," he began, "so what might I have to gain by correcting it?"

Narrowing her eyes, Grace stared at the symbol painted on her floor and took a deep breath, realizing that Crowley was right. "Yeah, okay," she commented, painting out the original she had drawn and replacing it with its exact mirror image. "There, better?"

Pressing his lips together, Crowley nodded slightly. "I suppose," he replied, sighing.

" _Grace_ ," Dean's thought hit her like a physical touch. " _We need you to get out here and help us move a branch off of your sister."_

She froze in her place on the ground with Everett and answered, " _And leave Crowley here with the kids?"_

" _Where's Lucia?"_

Grace licked her lips and glanced up at the demon, still inspecting the sigil painted on the ground. " _I sent her to help Cas,"_ she answered. " _How bad is it?"_

Dean hesitated, and then images began floating through Grace's mind's eye as if she was seeing through Dean's eyes. He sister was pinned, face down, to the ground, her eyes were closed, and it looked as if she was bleeding profusely. Glancing up at Crowley from her place on the floor, she narrowed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath.

"My sister needs help," she whispered, sounding fierce. "If you do anything to any of my children—"

Crowley leaned forward and rocked back on his heels, "Yes, yes," he answered. "You and your husband will take pleasure in gutting me."

"No," Grace answered, standing and dusting herself off. "I'll make it my mission in life to give you up to Delilah. I'll take my chances and let her deal with you."

"Rude," Crowley answered, turning away from her.

With that, Grace turned towards her children and took a deep breath. "I'm going to go help," she ventured. "I know it's not a very good idea, and I don't like leaving you here with him," she pressed her lips together. "But defend yourselves if necessary."

Liberty and Glory nodded slowly from their place in Jody's apartment. Everett seemed happy enough in his new sigil, and sat, cross-legged in the center, inches away from Charlotte's crib. Levi watched carefully from his seat near the back wall, saying nothing, but his demeanor was calm. Faith was standing in her crib, sucking on her bottom lip as she clutched the side of the bars. The lights flickered ominously.

"Stay calm," Grace murmured. "I'll be right back."

…

As Grace ran through the wheat, the lightning flashed and the thunder was almost unbearable. Rain pelted her face and she did what she could to shield herself from the hail that had begun. Approaching the fallen branch, she took a deep breath, steadying her nerves and preparing herself what might be coming.

"I need your arm," Grace muttered to Dean, reaching out automatically towards the Mark of Cain. Without hesitation, he began rolling up his sleeve, revealing the burned mark, and Grace pressed her palm down on to her husband's skin.

Expecting the result to be immediate, as it usually was, Grace's blue gaze flicked to her husband's face and she furrowed her eyebrows. "What's happening?" she asked, concern flooding through her chest. "I can't feel anything."

"Neither can I," he answered, pivoting his body towards her. "Again," he said, watching Sam from over Grace's shoulder.

Shaking her head, Grace was instantly frustrated. "Never mind," she spat, turning towards the branch. "We'll worry about that later." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, holding her hands towards her sister, palms out. Taking a deep breath, she lifted with everything she was, pushing her abilities to their max. Grunting with effort, Grace broke out into sweat as she concentrated, and slowly, the tree elevated enough for Sam to get under it and try to pull Serra to safety.

"She's stuck on something," Sammy yelled, turning towards Dean. "Help me!"

Grace remained where she was, struggling with everything that she had to keep the branch from falling back down onto her sister and her husband. Dean moved closer, trying to push the smaller branches away, but had a hard time getting close enough to Serendipity to be of any help. Finally, Sam broke another smaller branch and tugged Serra's still-unconscious form free of the tree, but blood spurted into his face, catching him off guard.

"Hurry, Sammy," Grace whispered, struggling against the weight of the wood. "I'm losing it."

"We're out, we're out," Dean cried, jumping away from the branches. The brothers pulled Serra far enough from the tree to be considered safe and rolled her to the side, inspecting her back as Grace let go of the branch. It went crashing back to the ground. There was blood everywhere.

Together, Dean and Sam searched for her wound, but it was difficult to see in the darkness with rain and hail pelting down. Lightning was flashing across the sky and blood was still pouring from places unknown. Finally, Dean pointed. "Look, it's up here, through her ribs," he grunted. "I'll bet it goes all the way through."

Following his line of sight, Sam and Grace leaned forward to see the sizeable tree branch buried into Serra's body, almost flush against her skin. Sam took a gasping breath as Grace shook her head, unbelieving.

"Serra?" Grace screamed, collapsing next to her sister. "Serra!"

Reaching towards Serendipity's throat, Dean felt for a pulse and shook his head, but Sam was already pumping Serra's chest, performing CPR as lightning flashed again across the sky. Looking up at just the right time, Grace gasped, finally seeing how close the tornado had gotten.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Crowley stared into the field between the houses, waiting as patiently as he could for any sign of the Winchesters. The lightning flashed with Delilah's rage and knowing that the end was near for the sisters, he licked his lips and tried not to feel guilty.

"Bloody feelings," Crowley muttered to himself.

The two eldest girls were standing at the top of the stairwell, watching Crowley carefully. He glanced behind him, trying to avoid their steady gaze, but it was nearly impossible.

"Why are you here?" Liberty asked, tilting her head and looking too much like her father. "You don't actually want to _help_ us. You just want to help yourself."

Turning slowly, his hands still in his pockets, Crowley took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Give the girl a gold star," Crowley sneered. "It's still helping keep you alive."

"And what about Aunt Lucky?" Liberty asked, stepping forward.

Crowley couldn't help the smile that crept slowly across his face. "I guess Aunt Lucky won't be so lucky," he replied. "It's tragic, really. Serendipity is, well, she's a wonderful example of a perfect specimen. I did enjoy riding around in her while it lasted."

The lights in the kitchen flickered as Liberty held Crowley's gaze. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, only getting him to nervously glance around the kitchen as one of the overhead lights popped, sending glass shards down around him. Crowley lifted his gaze again to the children and tilted his head, eyeing Glory and sending her to hide behind her big sister.

"Be careful, little one," Crowley warned as he sidestepped the glass on the floor. "You have the power, just not the control. You wouldn't want to hurt your dear little sister."

Liberty said nothing, but continued to stare at Crowley. She took Glory's hand and the lights flickered again, causing Crowley to cower away from the overhead light bulbs. Two more popped, sending glass down onto the demon.

"You might want to watch yourself," Liberty whispered. "You wouldn't want to get glass in your eyes."

With that, Liberty and Glory turned and walked back down the steps to the panic room, sealing themselves inside and leaving Crowley above ground as the tornado touched down.

…

"We have to get inside!" Grace screamed above the wind. "It's right there! It's coming!"

Sammy pulled a still-unconscious Serra into a fireman's carry and turned towards Grace, nodding at the Small House. "We're not going to make it back to the Big House!" he shouted. "Go! I'm right behind you!"

Dean led the way, jogging towards the small house that Sam and Serra owned together, holding the back door open as soon as he climbed the steps. He glanced back at the Big House, an entire field away, and took a deep breath. "I can't leave the kids alone with him," he yelled, nodding towards the house at Grace. "I'm going back!"

Grace took a deep breath, nodding once at her husband. "Hurry," she whispered, touching his face. "Be careful. I'll stay to heal Serra."

With that, Dean jogged down the porch steps and sprinted across the field as Grace led the way through the small house, holding open doors and helping Sam navigate through the house, still holding a profusely bleeding Serra. "Here, here," she called, running down the basement steps as the tornado touched down. "Put her here and we'll stop the bleeding." Tears flowed freely down Grace's face and Sam took a deep breath, trying to remain calm for both of the sisters.

Sammy took a ragged breath and nodded towards Grace, "It's okay, right? She's going to be fine." He smiled at Grace encouragingly. "You've got this, right?"

Nodding, Grace agreed. "Yeah, yeah," she agreed. "Just remove a branch and stop the bleeding. Keep her breathing. No problem." Swallowing hard, Grace lifted her eyebrows as the lights in the basement flickered. "You'd better try and get emergency services out here anyway." Her blue gaze flicked to Sammy's hazel eyes. "You know," she continued, "just to be safe."

…

Castiel was breathing hard, something he didn't realize that he needed to do until now, as he ran through the forest at full speed. He had shed his trench coat along the way, having gotten caught on too many branches as he ran. It had just slowed him down.

Coming to a stop, he ducked down into a thicket of underbrush and waited, listening for movement. The witches that trailed him were quick as well, almost moving without running, forcing him to wonder if it was all an illusion. He tried again to reach out with his abilities, but he felt dulled while in Sabina's subconscious.

His thoughts returned again to Grace, hoping that she made it back to her body without incident. Castiel considered the possibility of simply pulling himself out of Sabina's mind and making his way back to his body, but he had not accomplished his mission. They still needed to find out who Sabina was.

Castiel had abandoned the spell book that Grace had dragged from the ancient building, now demolished by the small coven of witches that continued to pursue him. He took a deep breath, trying to put the pieces together.

 _Why would a spell book and an ancient building be in Sabina's memories?_ Castiel asked himself, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued to listen for the coven that followed him. _The witches aren't here to protect the spell book. They're here to protect the memories and keep me out._

"She's a witch," Castiel breathed, the truth slamming into him like a truck.

There was movement in the trees and as Castiel prepared himself to launch back into a run, but relief flooded through him when he noticed her long blonde hair and flowing green dress. Lucia had found him.

"How?" Cas asked, standing to hug her. "I never considered the possibility that you would be able to find me here."

Lucia smiled gently, seeing Castiel again. She took a quiet breath and answered, "You are like a beacon, Castiel. We have been united as one. I know how you sound."

Redness flushed Cas' neck and cheeks before he could stop it and instantly, he was embarrassed about the very human reaction. Before he had a chance to answer her, Castiel pulled Lucia down into the bushes to hide from the approaching coven.

"Why do we hide, Castiel?" Lucia asked, perplexed.

Cas licked his lips and shook his head. "Our abilities as angels are muted here, Lucia. I want to fight them, trust me, but I have not been able to perform."

"I feel that Dean would make a joke about performance anxiety here," Lucia added, tilting her head. "He would be handy in a situation like this."

Cas rolled his eyes and pushed up his white shirtsleeves. "Yes, I agree about the joke," he answered, staring at the incoming witches. "But as for his helpfulness, I have doubts. He was shot in Holden, the last time we encountered witches. He was pretty useless for a time."

Lucia nodded gravely. "We need to push them back so that we can get back to our bodies," she explained. "I feel the pull of Grace's prayer. Do you not hear her?"

Castiel nodded without looking towards Lucia. "I am entwined in Grace's subconscious at any given moment, but we need to deal with this situation first so that we can keep the witches away from the Winchesters."

Suddenly, a large tree behind the angels splintered with the shock wave of a spell that Rhiannon launched towards them. A branch from high above loosened and gave way; forcing Castiel and Lucia to jump back, rolling in the dirt to stay away.

Castiel pushed his arms out, trying to force the witches back, but it seemed that his abilities were dulling more and more as time moved forward. "This is problematic," he muttered, shaking his head. "If I am unable to defend from the attack, what are the odds that we will be able to make it out of Sabina's subconscious?"

Furrowing her eyebrows and showing her confusion in a very human gesture, Lucia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, mimicking Castiel's defensive posture.

Nothing happened.

Staring at her fingers, Lucia took a deep breath and glanced questioningly towards her companion. "What have they done to us?"

Gritting his teeth and shaking his head in disappointment, Castiel took a deep breath. "They've accomplished their mission: separate us from the Winchesters and lock us in a place where we are unable to assist."

Unbelieving, Lucia closed her eyes and tried to force herself back into reality; back into her vessel left standing in the Winchester family's living room. Her mouth opened in shock as she took a deep breath. "I am unable to find my way to my vessel," she whispered. "What do we do?"

Cas licked his lips and flicked his blue gaze towards his companion. "We do what we need to in order to survive. If the witches want a war, that's what we will give them."


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Grace's hands were dripping with her sister's blood as she attempted over and over again to slow the bleeding using her angelic abilities. Tears streamed down her face as she worked and made it difficult to see the wound in Serra's back. Shaking her head and wiping her face with the back of a blood soaked hand; Grace pushed the renegade blonde strands back, smearing her tears and the blood across her cheek.

"Sammy," she gasped, fighting the panic that touched her voice, "any luck getting a hold of the ambulance?"

Lightning crashed through the field between the houses again as Sam turned and shook his head, his lips pressed into a tight line. "The signal is either being interrupted by the storm or the line is busy. I can't get through."

Grace took a deep breath and changed towels again. "She's losing too much blood," she whispered, trying to hold it together. "I can't…I don't know why I can't heal the wound."

Sam's eyebrows creased together and took a ragged breath. "What do I do, Grace?"

Breathing hard, Grace kept her fingers on Serra's pulse point, feeling for her heartbeat. It was weak but it was there. Barely.

"We need to get her to a hospital," Grace answered, shaking her head and containing her panic. "I touched Dean's Mark before we separated," she continued. "I should be able to heal her." Staring at his sister-in-law, Sam remained silent as Grace continued to work on his wife. "Okay," Grace took a breath and shook her head, giving up on using her abilities as a nephilim. "Okay, I've got nothing. I've got no mojo and we're just wasting time. She's gonna bleed out." Looking up at Sam, she swallowed hard. "Text Alana. Texts should be able to go through," Sam was nodding as Grace put another clean towel on Serra's back wound, dropping another wet one in the pile. "Tell her I pulled the branch because I thought I would be able to heal her, but now all she's got is a puncture wound and less blood. I'll go get the Impala and we're going to make a break for the hospital."

As Grace finished the sentence, there was a crash, followed by a few favored Winchester swear words coming from the kitchen. "Sonuvabitch," Dean's voice carried through the small house and both Grace and Sam whipped their heads around, searching for the source of Dean's voice.

"Dean?" Grace yelled, "What are you doing here? I thought you were—" Grace's voice cut out in shock, seeing her husband standing in the kitchen, clutching their infant daughter. "What the hell?"

Dean was shaking his head, looking slightly queasy. "I was," he coughed, leaning against the counter. "I picked her up from the playpen and bam," he continued, staring down at Faith as he held her. "I ended up over here."

Sam turned towards his brother with his eyes wide. "How?" he asked, his mouth agape.

Shaking his head, Dean answered, "I don't know. I guess Faith can bamf us both?" He swallowed and made a face, "But I'm starting to remember why I don't like doing it." He moved closer towards Grace and Serra, still on the floor of the house. "How is she?"

"We're going to the hospital," Grace answered, still barely controlling her emotions. "Sam texted Alana, I was just going to go get the Impala."

Dean bent down to touch Grace's hand as she held the towels in place and at the same time, Sam reached for Serra's hair, tucking it behind her ear. It happened all at once. There was a flash of light as lightning made contact with the house, shattering windows and knocking the chimney down. Bricks tumbled into the house, crushing dishes that had been on the countertop. Dean leaned towards Serra, covering his sister-in-law, wife, and infant daughter with his body as Sam did the same, covering the other half of Serra's body with his own.

The living room lit up with a blinding blue light and Grace felt the tug as she was pulled across space and time, still connected to her sister, husband, and daughter as they made physical contact with her. Sam was suddenly there as well, and as the light faded, Grace opened her eyes, glancing around her. They were in the middle of a tiled floor, surrounded by white walls and wooden doors.

"What the hell?" she repeated, lifting her head. "Where are we?"

Faith gurgled happily in Dean's arms.

"Dean?" Sam asked; resting his hands on his own chest, almost to make sure he was still in one piece. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean's gruff voice answered. "You?"

Sam nodded and he glanced at Grace, who was still holding the bloody pile of towels to Serra's openly bleeding wound. "Grace?"

"Yeah," Grace agreed. "Are we…" she glanced around and shook her head, "are we at the hospital?"

Dean turned in a complete circle, looking for any clue on what could be happening. "Holy shit," he whispered, staring down at his daughter. "The kids are alone with Crowley."

…

"What happened to Daddy?" Everett asked, looking up from the movie that was playing on Jody's old TV. His hands were still clamped tightly over his ears and he sat with his legs curled underneath him in a tight little ball.

Liberty shrugged lightly, unconcerned. "Faith took him to Uncle Sammy's house to help Aunt Lucky and Momma." She looked up at the door of the panic room and smiled as she flicked her finger. The extra deadbolt Dean had installed as an easy lockdown slid into place and she turned her attention back to her brother. "I think they're going to the hospital."

Glory lay on the floor next to them, making faces at Charlotte as the baby giggled. "That man is still outside," she commented. "Is he staying?"

Lib turned towards her sister and shrugged again. "It really doesn't matter. He can't get in and doesn't want to get out, so I think we're okay as long as we stay inside."

"I like the panic room," Glory commented. "Do you like the panic room, Lee?"

Levi stood near the door of the iron room, his dark eyes narrowed and his body tense. He nodded once, watching his sister on the floor with Glory. "We're safe here," he commented. "But don't you think we need a grown-up that isn't a bad guy?"

"Momma and Daddy said no one can get into the room, so it doesn't really matter," Liberty commented. "We have a bathroom, so we can keep the big door closed."

"We're going to get hungry eventually," Levi answered, touching his belly. "And Charlie is gonna need a bottle."

Everett, Glory, and Liberty pointed to the stack of supply-filled laundry baskets in the back of the panic room in tandem. "There's lots of food over there," Libby replied. "And making a bottle isn't that hard. It's just water and a scoop of that powder stuff. I've watched Momma do it for a long old time."

Levi seemed to be satisfied with that answer and took a deep breath, relaxing a bit. "What do we do about the storm?" he asked, coming closer to sit next to Glory and his sister.

Everett flicked his deep blue eyes towards his cousin as he rocked lightly back and forth. "Delilah says she's almost done," he whispered. "Then she's coming for me."

Turning together, Glory and Liberty faced one another and then their brother. "We won't let her take you," Liberty answered gently, standing and walking calmly towards her little brother. "She'll have to come through us first." Levi stared at his cousin and nodded in agreement. "All of us," Lib added, seeing the look of determination on Levi's face.

…

"Holy shit," Alana breathed as she ran up the hallway towards her friends. "How did you get here so fast?"

Grace shook her head, "Don't ask, don't tell," she answered, wiping the hair out of her face again, smearing blood across her forehead. She turned to face Sam as Alana bent towards the floor, using her stethoscope to listen to Serra's heart as she lay in the middle of the hall. "Sammy, hold on. She's okay. She's gonna be okay."

Sam was shaking his head slowly, close to losing control completely. "She's lost so much blood," he commented quietly. He turned to Grace, anger beginning to hit his voice, "And why can't you heal her?"

"I'm sorry, Sammy, I just don't know," Grace answered, touching Sam's shoulder to keep him focused. "We'll deal with that later. Alana's here. She'll get control."

Alana looked up after taking Serra's vitals and shaking her head. "I've got a code Resus," Alana was speaking into the hand-held radio that had been attached to the front of her scrubs. "Patient bleeding out. Need OR prepped for puncture wound to spine, we'll need blood too," Alana turned as she continued to speak into the walkie as Sam bent to pick Serra up from the floor.

Sam faltered a bit as he picked Serra from the ground, buckling under Serra's weight for the first time. Grace glanced at him, worried, and shook her head. "Sam, stop," she commented, holding out her hand. "You're exhausted. Switch," she pointed at Dean while maintaining the pressure she kept on Serra's wound. "Carry Serra downstairs and I'll keep pressure on her back. Alana is having a gurney meet us in the ER but they're gonna start asking questions if they have to come up to get her."

Reaching for Sam, Faith seemed to understand the plan before her father and uncle did. Sam took the infant and bounced her once out of habit as Dean took his sister-in-law from his brother's arms; her head and arms hanging like a rag doll. Grace stood with them, trying to keep the towel pressed to her back as she tucked her sister's head towards her husband's chest and walked with him, keeping pace through the hall as Alana held the elevator door open.

Following quickly behind them, Sam stared at the trail of blood that followed behind his wife and brother. His life seemed to be unraveling quickly and panic threatened to take control of his body. Faith seemed to recognize that her uncle was rapidly coming undone. She reached out with a chubby hand and touched his face, holding it there and forcing him to close his eyes as she sent calming thoughts into his mind. By the time they all reached the elevator, Sam felt marginally better, and smiled lightly as his niece.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, hugging her close.

The doors closed behind them and Grace adjusted, trying to keep more blood from escaping her sister. Swallowing hard, Grace reached across her sister and adjusted Serra's arms so that they weren't hanging loose, away from Dean, and suddenly, she took a great, gasping breath as she regained consciousness.

"Serra?" Sam was first to acknowledge the change in Serra's breathing. "Can you hear me?"

Alana moved in front of Dean as he continued to hold her in a fireman's carry, his face red with exertion. "Serra?" Alana asked, timing her pulse again. "Serra, can you hear us? You're gonna be okay."

Grace stared at her sister's face, reaching out to touch her cheek as tears came to her eyes. "Hold on, kiddo," she whispered, again trying to send her healing abilities outward to take the pain from Serendipity. "Breathe, please."

"My whole body is on fire," Serra commented, wheezing. Slowly turning towards her husband and raising her eyebrows, she continued, "I told you I hated tornadoes," she whispered. "This is why."

Smiling weakly, Sam nodded, "I will never make fun of you again. I'm sorry, honey," he continued. "We're at the hospital. Alana's gonna get a team to fix you up."

Serra wheezed again, struggling to take each breath. Closing her eyes and resting her head back on Dean's shoulder, she asked, "Alana? Why can't Grace?"

Shaking her head slowly as the elevator doors opened, Grace whispered, "I don't know, kiddo. We'll worry about that later."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Finally down stairs, headed through the emergency room, Dean carried Serra to the closest gurney and laid her down carefully, still dripping blood as he walked across the white tile floor. Turning to give Faith to Grace, Sam's attention was solely on his wife as the trauma room's staff began rolling her towards the halls in the back of the hospital.

"Julie!" Alana shouted, getting a nurse's attention. "Julie, is the OR prepped?"

Julie nodded; her tightly curled brown hair bouncing as she jogged next to Dean and Grace as she reached over Serra's body and started attaching stickers to monitor her vitals. She took a breath as she glanced up at Alana and nodded once more, "OR four," Julie commented. "Surgery team is scrubbed and ready." Julie turned towards Grace and nodded towards the operating room hall. "Mrs. Winchester, I understand that you and your sister are blood type matches?"

Grace swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "We've given blood to each other before."

"You're going to just come with us and we'll hook you up immediately," Julie continued, smiling encouragingly. "We're not going to waste any time sending blood from storage."

"I can't breathe," Serra gasped, coughing as they jogged towards the operating room. She took another gasping breath and coughed once more, sending blood onto her chest in a splatter pattern across her clothes, and then passed out.

Sam was close to inconsolable. He wheeled on Grace as they approached the door to the operating room and covered his face with his hands. "Why didn't you heal her, Grace? Why didn't you do anything?"

Grace shook her head, tears dripping down her cheeks. "There's nothing I _can_ do, Sam! My abilities…my abilities aren't working and I can't take any power from Dean."

Immediately, Sam changed his argument, "What did you _do_ Dean? Why can't you charge her up! She's going to die!"

"Dude, take a breath," Dean replied, holding out his hands towards his brother's chest. "I didn't do _anything_. Grace didn't _do_ anything. Quit trying to blame us." Dean pointed towards his wife and narrowed his eyes, anger finding his voice for the first time. "She was just in someone else's _subconscious_ and there is a crazy-ass bitch witch sending down damnation all around our house, where the rest of our kids are. Alone. With fucking Crowley." He squeezed his eyes shut and turned to watch as his little brother paced around the waiting room. "I have run through lightning, hail, and rain, been bamfed from my house, to your house, to the hospital, and I know I am not gonna shit right for a week." Dean reached towards Sam and put his free hand on his brother's shoulder. "I don't know what else to say, but I can guarantee that your _infant_ niece made it possible that Serra might live through this."

Sam let out a sob, collapsing into the chair behind him, and holding his head in his hands.

Taking a deep, ragged breath, Dean pulled out his phone and tried for a signal again. "I'm gonna try and call Jody and Emery. The kids can't be alone with Crowley," he murmured. "You gonna be okay for a minute?"

Sam nodded slowly, but refused to look up.

"Here," Dean took Faith from Grace to pass off to Sammy once more. "She'll make you feel better."

Faith grinned at her uncle as he made eye contact with her, holding her hands out towards him and flexing her fingers, eager for Sam to take her. Slowly, Sammy finally raised his arms and held her as Dean walked away, holding the phone to his ear.

Immediately, Faith curled into her uncle's chest, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. The warm tingle started from the places where she made physical contact with his skin and he sighed in relief as his panic died away. "You're a pretty special kid, baby girl," Sammy whispered. "Thank you."

…

Delilah opened her eyes and watched as flames licked at the Winchesters' barn. Through the rain, the lightning strike had been devastating as it hit the same tree twice in a row. She smiled to herself, knowing already how much blood Serendipity would have lost from her puncture wound and reveled in the fact that she had thought ahead enough to begin to sap Grace of her abilities with her exquisite spell work. The issues from Holden would not be repeated.

As she began her trek out of the hilltop field, Delilah allowed the storm to rage on, but was left untouched by the rain and hail as she marched across the fields towards Dean Winchester's house. As she reached the edge of their property, she allowed herself a small smile. Things were going well.

…

From his place on Jody's old bed, Everett gasped quietly, covering his ears and rocking harder back and forth. "No, no, no, no," he chanted quietly. "No, no, no."

Liberty turned slowly towards her brother and narrowed her eyes, listening for what Everett was hearing. "Everett?" she asked quietly, making her way towards the bed, "Ev, what's the matter?"

Ignoring her, Everett shut his eyes and continued to rock.

She didn't really know how she knew what to do, but immediately, Liberty turned to face her siblings, holding out her hands, forcing Everett to take one of them. Glory joined her, taking Liberty's outstretched hand, and then pulled Everett's other hand away from his face. The girls closed their eyes and Liberty took a deep breath, finding the strength to hide and protect their little brother from the woman that was making the storm.

Levi didn't hesitate. He moved into action as well, jumping onto the chair next to the bookcase and brought down the permanent marker that Jody had in a cup on the top shelf. Around the circle of Winchester siblings, Levi began to draw the sigil that he had seen his mother, father, uncle, and aunt draw countless times. It may not have been perfect, but the sigil would do its job. From there, he walked towards the set of dresser drawers and opened the bottom one carefully. The overhead lights played upon the silver of the angel blade, casting a reflection onto Levi's face. He took a deep breath and reached for the knife. As he pushed the drawer closed, readied himself and then turned to the playpen where his sister was safely laying and used his back to shove the entire thing into the center of the sigil; Liberty and Glory breaking their grip with each other's hands only long enough to get Charlotte into the sigil.

A quiet calm came over Levi, knowing he had done everything he knew to do. Delilah could come and he knew: they would be ready.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Levi took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, feeling the protective pull towards his cousins that he was used to, but this time, it was so much more. There had been plenty of times in the past that he felt the need to protect Liberty and Glory, but right now, there was nothing else he could think of. Everett sat in the middle of the circle the girls had formed and rocked back and forth, still covering his ears and repeating his chant, but there was an odd calm coming over Levi as he held the angel blade. He knew that woman would come and for the first time in his life, he knew they would be taken by someone other than his parents. Levi could feel it in his bones.

As the minutes slowly ticked passed, Levi thought about the times Momma had pulled him to the side when she had been shooting cans in the backyard to teach him the proper rules about guns and how to handle them. He had even been able to fire one of the Twins once or twice, while his mother supported his hands and warned him about the kick.

Uncle Dean had spent training time with he and Liberty as well; leading their playful wrestling matches in the barn with compliments and critiques, usually getting involved on the ground and battling it out with them, laughing the entire time.

Auntie Grace had powers and abilities that Levi didn't really understand, but she spent as much time as she could teaching Liberty and Glory more and more each day about how to move molecules, whatever that meant, but they were getting better, even thought Auntie told them over and over that it was a secret and that she didn't know if she should be training them quite yet. More than anything, Auntie Grace saw and heard everything and Levi paid close attention to everything that she noticed. It was more about quieting his mind and watching his surroundings than anything else; something his own mother had a harder time doing.

Daddy knew more than anyone that books could give them any answer they ever needed and Levi enjoyed reading about legends with him late into the night. Something told Levi that books wouldn't hold the answer this time. This instance, he would be dependent on the knowledge and logic that he had picked up in his five short years. Each time the adults in his family had taken the time to teach him something about defense; Levi had taken note and remembered the details in a way that not even Liberty would have remembered. He was as ready as he could be.

There was movement outside of the panic room door, and Levi tensed, his senses on high alert. Libby, Glory, and Everett didn't seem to notice the sound, so Levi moved closer to the door to listen better.

"Lee, what's the matter?" Liberty asked, her attention grabbed.

He held a finger to his lips, shaking his head, and still listening closely.

Liberty nodded and closed her mouth, keeping Glory quiet as well. From his position in the middle of the circle, Everett had stopped rocking and his face smoothed out as he listened for the source of the voice as well. "Momma?" Everett asked, tilting his head.

Glory turned towards her brother, confused. "What about Momma?" she asked.

"I can hear her," Everett answered, standing in the middle of the sigil and turning towards the door of the panic room. "She's calling us outside."

Narrowing her eyes and glancing at Levi, Liberty began to slowly shake her head. "No, Ev," she whispered. "Faith took them to the hospital to help Aunt Lucky, remember?"

"She must be back," Everett shrugged, moving closer to the door. "She's outside and says it's safe now."

Levi moved towards the panic room door, standing in Everett's path. "I don't know, Ev," Levi replied quietly. "That doesn't seem like something Auntie Grace would do." He glanced up at Liberty, raising his dark eyebrows. "Right? She'd come and get us."

"Everett," Lib held up her hands. "I don't know."

It was too late. Everett had already moved towards the door, bumping Levi out of his path. "Move, Lee. I wanna go see Momma and Faith."

"No, wait - "

As Everett unlocked the door and pulled the handle, a bright light filled the panic room, illuminating the room's corners with a blinding beam. Liberty, Glory, and Everett didn't even squint, but Levi held up his hand, attempting to block the light from his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Levi realized that this was the moment he had been mentally preparing for and as his cousin took a step towards the light, Levi didn't hesitate and wrapped his hand around Everett's. It happened all at once.

…

Castiel and Lucia ran full tilt towards the tree line as the building behind them erupted into flames. There was a brief scream as one of the witches they had trapped inside attempted to open the doors to escape the fire unsuccessfully, but were silenced almost as quickly as they began. Whether the witch had burned or she had escaped, Cas would not know, but either way, the angels had managed to break the spell that she had been in the process of casting.

As Castiel took a deep breath, he fought the urge to smile at the destruction that he had caused and turned to Lucia nod towards the direction that he and Grace had come, not so long ago. "We need to get moving and back to our vessels. We came from that direction," he whispered, pointing, "but I'm hoping that if we distract them enough, we should be able to just disappear from this plane and end up back in ours."

"Did you discover the answer to your question?" Lucia asked, calmly turning towards Castiel. "The reason you are here?"

"Yes," Castiel answered, caving to his desire to smile. "Sabina is a witch. I believe that she is under a memory-altering spell that convinces her to believe that she is a victim of the witches from Holden. She is a plant, a spy." Cas stood, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath. "Who cast the spell is still a mystery, but I feel that Serendipity will be pleased that her suspicion is not unfounded."

Suddenly, Castiel froze, listening hard to something that no human would have been able to hear. Lucia turned towards him quickly, nodding once. "I hear it too," she whispered, and closed her eyes, preparing to immediately go back to her vessel.

Castiel reached for her hand, clasping it in his own and closed his eyes.

Opening his eyes again, Castiel expected to be back in the Winchesters' living room, back in his vessel, but obviously, he was not. The breeze still glided lazily through the forest in Sabina Wills' memories and the fire still burned behind them. Lucia and Castiel were trapped in Sabina's mind.

...

"She's bleeding out," the nurse muttered to another as she attempted yet again to set the IV in Serendipity's arm. "Get her sister in here. We need blood."

Alana nodded and turned towards the operating room door, pushing it open with her shoulder and calling out into the hall. "Grace!" she yelled, her voice reverberating against the walls. "Get in here, stat!"

Turning towards her name, Grace pivoted and jogged towards the door. "Alana?" she asked, being ushered into the room.

"We're on overload with the storms," Alana began, stripping off her latex gloves and rolling Grace's flannel sleeve up to her elbow. "I'm in here because we're short staffed tonight. If your sister wasn't the one on the table, she'd be assisting in the OR tonight too."

Grace glanced over at her sister, watching blood drip rhythmically onto the tile floor, pooling below the table. "Is she going to be okay?" Grace whispered, not feeling the needle as it punctured her skin. Alana pulled her towards a chair near Serendipity and connected the hose to the IV coming from Serra's arm.

"Well," Alana began, taking a deep breath as she scrubbed up at the sink again, "it's not exactly standard operating procedure, but we're keeping you hooked up during the surgery so we don't have to bring in blood." Alana put new gloves on and walked to where the doctors had already begun flipping Serra to her belly and cutting her clothes off, inspecting the wound. "Once we tap you dry, we'll bring Sam in."

"What?" Grace shook her head. "I won't be enough?"

"She's losing more than you can provide without causing yourself some serious harm, Grace," Alana replied, attaching an oxygen tube to Serra's nose from her awkward position. "Serra's AB-positive, which is a universal receiving, so we'll put you two on rotation for now."

Grace closed her eyes, doing her best to absorb all of the information that Alana was giving her. The doctor and nurses continued to bark orders and questions at each other, all doing their best to save her baby sister's life and it was all Grace could do not to break down and cry.

Seeing Grace's emotions waver, Alana pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, "Grace, I won't lie to you. That's not how people like you and I work: Serra's lost a lot of blood. There's a puncture wound that goes completely through her spinal column and into her lung. She's essentially drowning in her own blood, or what's left of it." She licked her lips and lowered her head, making eye contact with Grace as she continued, "We are going to do everything in our power to save her, but wimping out on us right now is not going to help." Glancing around at the nurses surrounding her, Alana licked her lips and gestured towards Serra with her head. "I take it you tried healing her already?"

Slowly, Grace nodded, her blue eyes glazed over in shock. "I tried," she whispered. "I tried and I couldn't. There's something wrong with my abilities."

"Okay," Alana sighed and got back to work. "Your only job right now is to stay conscious and give as much blood as you're able to in order to save your little sister." She smiled weakly. "You got this, right?"

Nodding, Grace agreed. "I'll give more than I can spare," she replied quietly. "Just save her."


	29. Chapter 29

:: Hello everyone! I am so sorry that it's taken me so long to post this last chapter of "War". I have been so incredibly busy lately, but things (hopefully) will start to calm down for awhile. Thank you so much for all of your reviews and favorites over the last few weeks. You are all awesome. This wraps "War" and it already has a sequel that is being wrapped and edited. In the meantime, I'm going to dust off another Browning Sister saga that I think you'll enjoy. It'll be posted soon. Thank you so much for your support! Always keep fighting. You're stronger than you think.

Love and internetty hugs,

TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo::

Chapter 29

"Dean, we're here," Jody's voice answered immediately as soon as he answered his phone. "What's the new alarm code to get into the house?"

Dean glanced towards his brother who was still sitting with his head hanging towards the floor as he took a deep breath and continued to bounce the baby on his hip, "No new code, Jody. You know it." Dean waited patiently for Jody to pass the test and let out a sigh when he heard the alarm beep reassuringly through the app on his phone. Jody and Emery were in the house, ready to supervise Crowley's presence in his house with his kids.

Dean had to concentrate on listening through Faith's continued sobs as he tried to hear the conversation that continued on without him at his house. The baby had been crying for the last twenty minutes or so and in Dean's mind, could only mean that the danger was far from over. If it was one thing he could trust his infant to do (besides smite demons and teleport the family from one place to another) was to warn the rest of the family of impending doom.

"Whoa, you Crowley?" Jody asked, still holding her phone to her face. "Where are the kids?"

"I'm not a bloody babysitter," answered Crowley's snarky reply. "They're all there, behind closed doors. Apparently, very self-sufficient."

Jody turned her attention back to Dean, as she took a deep breath and continued, "We're in the house. Things look calm, except the broken glass on the floor and busted back door."

Tilting his head, the tightness in Dean's chest returned. "The back door is busted? How?" he asked over Faith's cries, standing from the waiting room chairs. He began his pace pattern through the waiting room again, holding his youngest daughter on his hip, still trying to comfort her, but knowing something else was wrong.

Sam's attention was grabbed. He lifted his head and stared at Dean, watching him carefully through bloodshot eyes. "Dean? What's wrong?" he asked.

Holding up a finger, Dean turned back to the phone, "Jody, that door was fine when we went out to get Serra. How is it busted? From the outside or from the inside?"

Jody walked towards the kitchen shaking her head. "It's kinda hard to tell, Dean," she replied, moving closer. She was careful not to step on the shards of broken glass and wood splinters from the exploded back door. "When I say busted, I mean more like obliterated. This sucker is kindling."

Dean whipped around to face Sam, panic seeping into his features. "Jody," he whispered. "The kids. Go check the kids."

Emery was already at the bottom of the staircase leading to the panic room where the kids should have been. She tried over and over to press the correct code to release the door, but nothing she tried seemed to work. Crowley waited at the top of the stairs, watching with genuine concern.

"Wait," Emery held up her hand. "Doesn't that mean that it's already unlocked?"

"If it's unlocked, it won't take the code," Dean confirmed from the other end of the phone, waiting tensely. "The door is already unlocked."

Very slowly, Jody moved towards the steel door of the panic room, reaching towards it with her fingertips. She pushed gently, but met resistance. "There's something blocking the door," she muttered, pushing harder.

Emery glanced up at Crowley, noticing that blood was dripping from his ear. "You're bleeding, Crowley," she muttered. "Don't want to ruin that three-piece of yours."

Reaching up to touch his ear, Crowley looked genuinely confused. Jody ignored the exchange and forced the panic room's door wide open, gasping slightly at the scene before her.

"Oh my god," she whispered, kneeling down to an unconscious Liberty. "Lib's knocked out," she breathed into the phone, "she was lying across the doorframe, unconscious. It's why I had to push."

"Is she okay?" Dean answered, barely contained with his youngest still crying into his ear.

Jody reached to feel for Liberty's pulse and closed her eyes, sighing heavily. "She's breathing, she's okay," Jody replied. "I don't see any marks on her at all." Jody looked up, glancing around the room. "Glory is out too," she continued, walking over to the Winchester's middle daughter. "And Charlotte is okay. She's awake in her play pen."

"What about Everett and Levi?" Dean asked, breathless, as he stood statue-still in the middle of the hospital waiting room.

Emery and Jody exchanged meaningful glances as Jody tilted her head towards the phone, "They're not with you?" she whispered.

Dean whipped around to face Sam, white-hot terror flooding his entire body. "What?" he asked; his pulse pounding in his ears. "They're not there?"

Jody shook her head slowly, "No, Dean!" she answered, spinning in a complete circle in the middle of the panic room, "Ev?" she called. "Levi!"

"They're not here," Emery repeated, ducking down to check under the bed and behind the curtains that separated the apartment from the rest of the panic room. "Oh my god, they're not in here."

Both of the women whipped around to face Crowley, squaring their jaws and approaching him slowly. "What did you do, Crowley?" Jody asked, taking one step at a time. "Where are the boys?"

"Crowley!" Dean shouted from the other end of the phone. "Where the _fuck_ are my kids?"

Already standing with his hands up, with his palms out, Crowley was shaking his head slowly, surrendering. "I assure you, Squirrel," he said calmly, his dark eyes wide with genuine fear. "There is not a piece of my blackened soul that would want to fuck with _any_ of the Winchester offspring. You have _got_ to be kidding me," he shook his head again for good measure. "Not even I am that _bloody_ stupid."

There was an inhuman growl from the other end of the speaker and then the line went dead as Dean threw his phone as hard as he could against the wall of the hospital waiting room. Gritting his teeth together, Dean balled his fist tightly and his features contorted with rage.

"Dean, what is happening?" Sam asked, glancing at the wall where a rectangular imprint was left in the drywall from where his brother's phone made contact. Dust snowed down gently into the plastic chair below the crater, covering it in drywall dust. "Dean?"

"This was all a distraction," Dean muttered, running his hands through his hair. "It's the kids. The tornado, the storm…it was to get us confused and separated, away from the kids. We don't even have Cas or Lucia."

"Dean," Sam repeated. "What is happening?"

Licking his lips with his jaw set, Dean shook his head, coming out of his thought process. "She has the boys. Delilah came to the house and took Everett and Levi."

…

Grace closed her eyes and leaned into the side of the chair, fighting unconsciousness. She was so tired; all she wanted to do was sleep. In the back of her mind, she could still hear the reassuring beeps and clicks from the machines that were keeping her sister alive while on the operating table. The doctor and nurses exchanged a pretty constant dialogue and they seemed to be getting ahead of whatever it was that was killing Serra.

"Grace," Alana's voice rang out into her ear, "you okay?"

Nodding, Grace sat back up and forced herself to sit up a little straighter and to open her eyes a little wider. "Yeah, yes," Grace agreed, taking a deep breath. "I'm good. I'm here." She licked her lips and focused on how the surgery was going. "Is Serra okay?"

From her position, Grace was unable to see what the doctor was doing, but bright lights illuminated the room and the amount of blood on the tile floor gave the entire space a pink glow. Grace was hooked up to a pump, still transfusing blood into her sister's body, keeping her heart pumping. It seemed like they had been at this for hours, but Grace vowed to stay as long as she was physically able to.

Alana took a breath and walked over to Grace, checking the machines that were pumping the blood out of her body and into her sister's. "She's lost almost four pints, Grace," she whispered. "She should be dead, but she's holding on. We're going to have to swap you out soon, though. You look like hell."

Shaking her head, Grace argued, "No, I can keep going. Serra needs me."

"Yeah, she does," Alana agreed. "But you're not going to be any good to anyone if you don't build up some strength again." Stripping off her gloves, Alana took a deep breath. "I'm going to unhook you, you're going to go out into the waiting room and sit down, send Sam in here and send Dean down to the cafeteria to get you some protein. You're going to eat and sleep, and in a few more hours, we're going to switch."

Knowing that Alana would never allow for argument, Grace nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay," she sighed, glancing up at her baby sister with tears in her eyes. "Save her, Alana. I don't know what I would do."

"We're doing our best, Grace," she whispered, leaning close. "Let us work and send Sam in here to give some more blood."

Grace stood shakily and moved slowly towards the door of the operating room. The monitors' beeping elevated slightly, warning about a dip in Serendipity's blood pressure, but Grace didn't slow down. Moving with purpose, she pushed open the door and moved towards where her husband and brother-in-law were standing in the middle of the room.

Taking a deep breath, Grace narrowed her eyes, trying to read the tension in the room. She was just so tired; she couldn't comprehend what was happening. "Sammy," she murmured, "Alana is ready for you. Serra," she whispered, "Serra needs more blood." She took a deep, shaky breath and tilted her head, trying to listen to Dean's thoughts, but couldn't filter them out. "What's happening? Why are you so angry?"

Faith had stopped crying and was reaching for her mother, grasping weakly towards her, away from Dean's chest. "Um," Dean licked his lips and took a deep breath, not knowing how to even put it into words. "The boys," he began quietly, walking towards Grace with his hand out, "The boys are gone."

Looking from Dean to Sam and then back to Dean, Grace furrowed her eyebrows, attempting to figure out what Dean was talking about. "The boys are gone? What, our boys?" Grace glanced towards Sam again, shaking her head slowly as she watched her brother-in-law's light hazel eyes fill with tears. "Sammy?"

Dean stepped towards her, keeping his voice as controlled as he could through his rage. "Emery and Jody went to the house to be with the kids while we're here with Serra. They got there and checked on everyone but the boys are gone and the girls were knocked out. Delilah came to the house," he began, his deep voice almost a growl, "and took the boys from the panic room." He took another ragged breath and adjusted Faith on his hip. "Everett and Levi are gone."

Grace felt like she was falling as she attempted to wrap her head around the information Dean was giving. "How?" she whispered, reaching behind her to brace her body against the chair closest to her in the waiting room. "If they were in the panic room, how did she get in?"

Licking his lips again, Dean was shaking his head slowly, "I don't know," he answered. "But somewhere deep in my gut, I know it's true." He gestured to the waiting room, continuing, "This. All of this was a distraction; a ploy. I'm betting the storm, the tornado, Serra and her wounds, all of this, was a plan to get us separated from the kids and wounded to slow us down. That bitch," Dean moved closer to Grace as he continued, "is going to die slow and painful."

"They're gone?" Grace repeated, shaking her head again, trying to fight the tears that stung her eyes. "They can't be gone. How? How can they be gone?" Her fists clenched involuntarily as her sadness turned to rage, and the lights above them flickered ominously. "Where the fuck is Crowley?"

"Crowley says he had nothing to do with it," Dean answered, shaking his head and glancing at the fluorescent lights above them. "I kinda believe him. He sounded scared shitless."

Sam had his hands spread and covering his face as he let out a strained sob. Grace shook her head and put a hand on his shoulder, doing her best to be comforting. "Serra," Grace whispered, remembering that her sister was still in surgery. "Sam, you need to go to Serra and give her more blood."

Tears streamed from Sam's eyes as he turned and forced himself into walking towards the doors at the end of the hallway. He said nothing as he disappeared through the swinging doors towards Serendipity's. Turning back towards Dean, Grace glanced at her infant daughter and touched her forehead tenderly. The lights above continued to flicker and dim as Grace took a semi-controlled breath. "She…this, Delilah woman; she just declared war." Grace's bright blue eyes were bloodshot as she flicked her gaze up towards her husband. Her voice was low but steady as she continued, "This is an act of war."

"She wants a war," Dean answered, "then we're gonna give her a war."


End file.
